Wandering Without
by crazyundeadfairy
Summary: Hephaestion and Alexander are separated against their wills. WARNING, this story becomes quite dark.
1. Part I

**Part I**

Hephaestion could not believe his own stupidity. More than any other of Alexander's companions he knew Olympias' temperament. He knew how vengeful and vindictive she was and also how obsessive of her son. In her mind Alexander could open his heart to no one save herself, and Hephaestion had attempted to prove the statement false. He had not meant it as an act against the queen. His only crime was in loving Alexander. An act that, to him, came as naturally as breathing.

"If anything happens to me, Alexander will look for me," Hephaestion insisted as he watched the queen pace before him. He did his best not to shudder at the sight of the snake coiling itself about her arm. "He loves me."

Olympias sneered at the comment. "My son has always been foolish about such matters. He does not yet realize its weakness."

"There is nothing weak about placing your trust in another."

"Fortunately you will not have to worry about such things any longer," the Macedonian queen informed him. "You will never see Alexander again."

He had opened his mouth to protest, but the words never passed his lips. He didn't feel the blow, but the world around him lost focus. His vision darkened at the edges, the darkness encroaching inwards as he dropped to his knees. He was fairly certain that he was going to die then. Yet, before the blackness filled his vision entirely, Hephaestion felt his arms drawn behind his back and bound with a coarse length of rope.

Then there was nothing.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall when Alexander returned to his rooms. He had spent the past three hours in the gardens waiting for Hephaestion. It was the first time in weeks that both of them were to have enjoyed an afternoon together free of obligations; just the two of them and no one else to encroach on their time. That Hephaestion had not shown worried him. Since they had returned from Mieza there was little time for them to spend together. Hephaestion had his duties to the Vanguard and Alexander increasing responsibilities from his father.

It had been easier in Mieza. There had been no pressure of responsibilities beyond those Aristotle placed upon them to learn. Alexander could not even attempt to calculate all of the time he and Hephaestion had been able to spend together, becoming closer than he had ever thought it possible for two people to be. He had always thought Hephaestion felt the same so it made no sense for him to miss their meeting.

"So heavy your shoulders seem, my son."

At the sound of his mother's voice, Alexander stiffened. There was a venom in her voice that made him instantly cautious. His mother was plotting again and meant to turn him to her side, a sure sign that her intended victim was his father.

"What are you going here, mother?"

Olympias slithered across the room to stand before him. "Is it a crime for a mother to wish to spend time with her son?"

"Then why not summon me to your rooms? Why hide in the shadows?"

"Would you have come?"

Alexander inclined his head briefly. "You are my mother."

"Something you would be wise to remember."

Without another word Olympias swept from his rooms and back to her own lair. Alexander felt a chill run through him at her silent departure. She was most definitely plotting. There was nothing unique about such things, but even so Alexander could not help but feel uneasy. He was not naïve enough to believe that his mother was without treachery. When cornered, his mother was as volatile as the snakes she surrounded herself with. Her strikes were also as lightning quick.

* * *

It was the rolling of his stomach that roused Hephaestion from his stupor. The bile began rising in his throat, gagging him. He managed to turn his head to the side, coughing and spitting out the acrid phlegm. It burned, his stomach recoiling further. As he wretched up the meager contents of his stomach, tears stung his eyes, leaking past tightly clenched lids.

Hephaestion couldn't think clearly and, what was worse, had no idea where he was. He knew that it was not the palace because wherever he was it was moving. Rocking back and forth and upsetting his stomach even more. He didn't think that he was on water and couldn't figure out whether that was in his favour or not at the moment. With Olympias as his jailor he could be bound for any number of locations. All of them far from Alexander.

His world began to lose focus over the next few hours. He would just start to get his bearings only to be pulled under once again. And each waking was exactly the same. The constant rocking in total blackness sent his stomach rolling. Hephaestion tried to call for help, but his voice was too weak for it to be effective. His voice was little more than a croak.

"Help… let me out… please…."

He thumped his elbows against the wooden surface he was lying on. It offered up no results, though, the rocking continuing unabated. Stealing himself against any further nausea, Hephaestion began to shift about in his dark prison, trying to make out its dimensions. He had to get back to Alexander. Bound hand and foot, Hephaestion was still able to make out that his current prison was little bigger than his own body. Any substantial movements and he came in contact with a wall. Enclosed places had never bothered him in the past, but still Hephaestion was sucking in deep breaths of air, filling his lungs to capacity each time.

Then he screamed.

With as much voice as he could muster, Hephaestion screamed. He didn't waste his time with words, only hoping that someone would hear him. Someone who could help him get back to Pella and to Alexander.

Hephaestion was gathering up his energy for a second scream when the rocking stopped.

* * *

Try as he did to keep his attention on the conversations around him, Alexander's mind wandered time and again to Hephaestion. It had been hours and there was still no sign of his beloved friend. As he had prepared for the evening banquet he had attempted to convince himself that Hephaestion had been detained on some business. Yet he was neither in the barracks nor the mess hall. Alexander had checked both locations himself and left word with Ptolemy that Hephaestion should come to the palace before returning there himself.

He was a prince and there was nothing he could do to appease the voice in his head that was insisting that something foul had happened to Hephaestion. Screaming quite loudly. He was helpless to do anything at the moment because the Athenian ambassadors who had arrived earlier in the week. He was a prince and had to act accordingly which mean attending the banquet his father was throwing in their honor.

"Quit looking so glum, boy. You'll give a bad impression," Philip hissed in his ear as he slumped down next to Alexander on a couch. "I need their support for Persia."

"My apologies, Father," Alexander murmured, inclining his head briefly.

Philip gulped down a mouthful of wine then turned his head to the side and belched. "Quit your sulking and enjoy the wine. It is flowing freely tonight."

Alexander glanced about the room at the rampant debauchery. "Your ambassadors appear to be enjoying themselves."

"So they should be. And so should you," Philip implored, shoving a goblet into his son's hands. Wine sloshed over the rim and onto Alexander's fingers. "You will see your friend again."

Alexander's eyes were immediately riveted on his father. "Hephaestion?"

"Aye, Amyntor's boy. One of the ambassadors had a message from his father. His mother has fallen ill, I believe, and she wanted to see him a final time."

All things considered, it did make sense. Hephaestion had always been in communication with his family and though it had been years since he had seen them, Alexander knew that Hephaestion loved them dearly. Given all of the times he had rushed off to see his own mother, Alexander could understand his beloved's need to see his mother in case the worse should happen.

"With all that Amyntor has done for me in the past, giving his son leave to return home was the least I could do," Philip continued, licking his lips as Pausanias approached. "Hephaestion has two months in Athens before he must report back to the Vanguard."

Even knowing the reason for Hephaestion's sudden disappearance, Alexander still felt uneasy. Hephaestion should have left word with him even if he hadn't had the time to say farewell in person. Yet there wasn't even a note, no sign to mark Hephaestion's departure. His beloved had simply disappeared.

Despite his apprehensions, Alexander reluctantly allowed himself to be drawn into the festivities of the night. He knew his further well enough to be aware that Philip wouldn't let him leave until he at least put up the pretense of enjoying himself. It was up to him to present a united front with his father. The Athenians needed to know that the power in Macedon was not linked to a single man.

It was still relatively early when Alexander managed to escape the hall. Philip was utterly distracted and Alexander was able to leave without any fuss. Tempted as he was to go to the barracks on the slim chance that Hephaestion was still in Pella, but knew that it would be a futile effort. If Hephaestion was still in Pella he would have been in the garden that afternoon. No matter how hard he tried, though, Alexander could not dispel the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

Braziers and lamps were lit when Alexander entered his rooms. The room was warm and inviting, made so the ever-vigilant servants who had kept watch for his return. The same servants had left a note waiting for him one his bed. A letter that had not been there before and that he could only hope was from Hephaestion. Why it had not been there earlier was irrelevant, it could take time for letters to be delivered, even internal ones. Just to be certain, though, he would try to find the letter that had come from Hephaestion's father tomorrow.

_Alexander, I would rather I could tell you this in person, but there was not the time. My mother is ill and I must leave for Athens immediately. I trust you will understand my need for haste. I can only hope that by the time I arrive she will be well. Know that I will carry you with me in my heart while we are apart._

_Until we meet again, Hephaestion._

Alexander read the note over several times, hoping for some further insight into Hephaestion's mind. There was nothing, though. It was simple, terse, and lacking any of Hephaestion's usual eloquence. It was a letter that had been written quickly. Except for the fact that it was in Hephaestion's hand the letter could have been composed by anyone. That it was in Hephaestion's hand offered Alexander vast amounts of comfort. Hephaestion would return.

* * *

There was a sudden influx of light. Hephaestion squeezed his eyes shut tight, but not before talons of agony began to claw at his temples. Trying to roll over availed him nothing either as there were hands pulling him resolutely towards the painful light.

"Let me go!" Hephaestion shouted, twisting about in their grasp. "You are making a mistake! Release me now! Please!"

Angry laughter was the only warning Hephaestion received before he was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Hephaestion cried out as his left shoulder impacted painfully with the ground. He rolled instinctively onto his back, arching to avoid placing pressure on his bound wrists. Through it all, Hephaestion kept his eyes screwed shut tight against the too bright sunlight.

"I do not know who you angered, boy, but you certainly did a thorough job of it. You are destined for the mines."

Hephaestion was still trying to process the words when he was hauled up onto his knees. Blinking his eyes open, he began to struggle when a knife flashed into his field of vision. Surprised to still be alive as it was, he was certain that he was to meet his end at that remote location so it was a shock when the short blade began to cut away at his chiton instead. The knife-wielder hacked away at the cloth, leaving the length few fingers above the belt; enough so that the lower portion would stay in place. When he thought they had finished, a hand fisted in his hair and his head was pulled back. It took Hephaestion a moment to realize that his long hair was being sawed off close to the scalp.

"You are making a huge mistake," Hephaestion gasped out, the extreme angle that his head was pulled back to making it difficult to draw a full breath. His head was released and a ripped piece of his ruined chiton shoved in his mouth and tied in place tightly.

"No, boy, you made the mistake."

Hephaestion was still struggling to orient himself when he felt the leather cord he had worn about his neck for the past two years pulled taut and then snapped. He lunged forward, desperate not to be parted from the wooden pendant it held. A pendant carved with the images of Achilles and Patroclus that Alexander had given to him.

All that he received for his efforts was a punch to his cheek that sent him sprawling once again. His arms still bound, he could do nothing to catch himself and hit his head hard on the ground. For the second time in an unknown spawn of time, Hephaestion's vision began to fade. His eyes darted about, searching out the pendant and kept his gaze locked on it for as long as possible.

Until he was aware of nothing else.


	2. Part II

**A/N: **Just a quick word of warning, this story is gonna go quite dark before the shiny brightness appears on the other side. i didn't intend it when i started the fic, it's just what happened when it was written.

* * *

The letter from Amyntor proved genuine. So, too, did the note from Hephaestion. Alexander had followed the chain of custody from the servant who had placed the letter on his bed to the one who had received it from Hephaestion. The letter from Amyntor likewise had a definitive lineage; passed from Amyntor to one of the Athenian ambassadors. There was nothing foul about any of it, but still Alexander could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. He found it impossible to believe that Hephaestion would leave without seeing him.

"I hear that Hephaestion is bound for Athens."

Alexander glanced away from Bucephalas and at Ptolemy who had positioned himself against the post of the next stall. At the moment it was all that he could do not to follow after Hephaestion on Bucephalas. There was something very wrong with the entire situation, but he had no way to prove it. They would all say that it was simply in his head because it was the first time he and Hephaestion had been separated for an extended amount of time since they were boys.

"It will only be for a short time. Hephaestion will return to you," Ptolemy sought to assure him. "He will not be able to stay away."

"Do you find it odd that Hephaestion left without saying goodbye?" Alexander asked, turning away from Bucephalas before the temptation became too great. "There was a note waiting for me, but there was nothing to it. A few simple lines only."

"It is a long way to Athens and, from what I understand, time was of the essence. Do not be surprised if you receive a long, rambling letter from him in a few weeks."

Alexander wished that he could take comfort from Ptolemy's assurances. His own thoughts could not be silenced. All he wanted to know was that Hephaestion was safe. Their parting, though temporary, was unavoidable, Alexander accepted that. It was the uncertainty that plagued his thoughts.

"Come, Alexander," Ptolemy prodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "The sun is at its peak and I'll wager that you have not yet eaten today."

Though still uncertain, Alexander allowed himself to be led away from the stables with the hope that Ptolemy and the rest could distract him from his troubled thoughts.

* * *

The pain in his shoulders and neck was the first thing Hephaestion became aware of. He fought it off, willing himself to fade to a place where he could no longer feel it. The pain was a persistent one, though, and would not grant him oblivion. As he reluctantly allowed himself to become more aware, Hephaestion was able to take better note of his surroundings. He was leaning up against some kind of poled structure with his arms bound above his head. The poled structure itself was moving as well. His sense of smell filtered in next and with it the scent of unwashed male bodies. Quite a few of them from the voices he could make out.

"The pretty one is waking up."

"…shapely whore…"

"…thighs that would subdue a king…"

"…glad to see he is no eunuch…"

Before he even opened his eyes, Hephaestion squeezed his thighs together. He was no man's whore. Alexander was his lover and his beloved and he would allow no other man to touch him. Not while there was breath still in his body.

A sudden bump in the road sent his stomach turning once again. Rather than risk the nausea opening his eyes would cause, Hephaestion kept them closed. Training insisted that he take stock of his enemy, but from the rattling sound of the chains they were bound just as he was. All of them destined for the mines.

Olympias had chosen his prison well, but Hephaestion knew that he would not stay there long. Alexander would come for him.

* * *

The days seemed longer now that Hephaestion was gone, the empty hours harder to fill. Even surrounded by the rest of his companions, Alexander was keenly aware of Hephaestion's absence. He waited in vain for a message from the other man; something more substantial than the note that had been left. Perdiccas tried to convince him of the possibility that a message from Hephaestion had simply gotten lost on the way. Hephaestion did not have the money to send an official courier and merchants were renowned for losing correspondence entrusted into their care.

Awake, Alexander could attempt to convince himself of such probabilities. It was while he slept that his fears and doubts manifested themselves in more terrifying forms. Dreams of darkness and of pain that would wake him trembling and sweating, his mouth open in a voiceless scream.

"I hesitate to close my eyes for fear of what visions will come," Alexander confessed to his mother after a week of sleepless nights. "Why can I not shake these dark thoughts? Hephaestion is bound for Athens, I saw the letter myself. With an Athenian escort there should be no troubles and he should arrive safely. Yet…."

"These are the fears of any lover when he is parted from his beloved for the first time," Olympias attempted to soothe him.

"I am both lover and beloved so the loss is doubly so," Alexander admitted, voicing the truth of his and Hephaestion's relationship for the first time.

He was slightly surprised that his mother showed no signs of surprise that he allowed himself to be taken by another. Her features, however, darkened noticeably so even if she didn't know, she had suspected.

"I love Hephaestion, Mother, and he loves me. As I am, not who," Alexander tried to console her. "He is, perhaps, the only one."

Olympias arched an eyebrow, leaning over so that one of her snakes could coil itself about her arm. "And what of me? Is my love so tainted?"

"You are my mother. Your love was ever unconditional."

The words seemed to lease her, the tension no longer quite so obvious in her body. The snake appeared equally pleased, uncoiling itself slightly and lifting its head to regard him. Not for the first time Alexander felt uneasy around one of his mother's reptiles. They were far too conscious of the world around them.

"So my little Achilles believes he has found someone worthy of being his Patroclus," she murmured, reaching a hand up as though to cup his cheek. Olympias was too far away and instead allowed her hand to fall to the side. "You still require a Briseis, though, and there are many who would fill the role. Attalus' niece, Eurydice, would make—"

"No more, Mother, I will not hear it! It is Hephaestion that I love."

Olympias scowled, rolling her head slightly as she turned away. "Hephaestion, again…. Hephaestion cannot continue our bloodline—Achilles' bloodline. Hephaestion cannot give you an heir. You will be nineteen soon enough, Alexander, you need to secure your line and make it impossible for Philip to choose another."

"There is no other. I am the only one strong enough."

"I pray that you are, Alexander."

His meeting with Olympias left him feeling more uneasy than before. It was no secret that his mother had never fully approved of his relationship with Hephaestion. She never approved of any that he held true affection for. It frustrated him that Olympias did not trust his judgment of people. He was fully capable of discerning when someone was attempting to get close to him merely for the position that he held in the Macedonian royal court. He wasn't a fool. It was why he kept the ones like Philotas and Cassander at arm's length. Theirs was a friendship that had been foisted upon them by their fathers while Hephaestion had grumbled and stomped about when Amyntor had insisted that he play with the "little blonde runt." It was Alexander who had to win Hephaestion over and while he did not recall the exact catalyst, their friendship was the truest one he had known.

So he sent up a prayer to the gods, asking Zeus to protect his Patroclus.

* * *

Hephaestion had been uncertain of what to expect when they reached the mines. All that he had known of them in the past was that they were the locations that King Philip often sent conquered tribesmen and Greeks to when they were not sold off as slaves. Chained to the men he had spent the long cart ride with, Hephaestion's first view of the mine filled him with dread. Before he had foolishly hoped to remain untouched by the ordeal, but seeing the withered and pathetic souls already slaving away he began to realize that it would impossible. If Alexander did not come he would be worked until he died.

"Such a pretty one," the foreman mused as he began inspecting Hephaestion's body a short while after they had been brought through the gates and into the main part of the mines. "I'll wager you bedded someone you should not have."

"My name is Hephaestion Amyntoros," Hephaestion declared as calmly as he was able. "My father is one of King Philip's generals. It would be in your best interest to release me."

The bald man laughed aloud at that. "I will credit you for originality, boy. I do not think that another has reached so high trying to talk their way from their lot here. Face facts, boy, this is your home now and you will do as you are told or else suffer the consequences. Take him away and bring in the next."

Hephaestion struggled valiantly, desperate to make the foreman believe his story. With his hands bound behind his back once again, however, he could not prevent the blow to his stomach that silenced him, nor the ones that followed.

While Hephaestion was still struggling to draw in a full breath, he was dragged from the foreman's tent and through the camp. They were not heading towards the underground part of the mines itself, but one of the many structures that surrounded it. The sound of metal striking metal was the first clue he had to their destination and Hephaestion began to struggle once again, fearing what would come.

"Be still, boy, or this will be worse for you," one of them hissed in his ear.

Hephaestion let out a wordless cry as he was brought into the dimply lit furnace that was the blacksmith's workshop. The man who had been in the foreman's tent before him was still with the blacksmith. Being fitted with a metal collar. The man was kneeling on the ground with his head bowed forward while the blacksmith worked. He winced as metal sparks struck his skin, sent up as the red-hot nailhead hammered the collar closed. Stale water was sloshed over his head, cooling the metal. As an added precaution, a coarse length of fabric was wrapped around the nail to act as a barrier between flesh and metal.

"Bring me the next one."

* * *

Hephaestion huddled into the corner of his rock-cut bunk, knees drawn up to his chest. His left arm was draped across his knees, the palm holding his right elbow, the fingers of that hand carding through his shorn hair. His neck ached, the collar sitting heavy and pressing against the array of burns he'd received from it being locked in place. It would take a great deal of care to remove it again.

All around him men were pass out, weary from a day's toil in the mines. It was not silent, though. Snoring, grunting and the passing of gas were but a few of the noises that filled the cramped, dark space. All of it echoed loudly in Hephaestion's ears. Between the dorms at Mieza and the barracks at Pella it had been several years since he had slept truly alone and he had long ago grown used to such sounds.

What was keeping him awake was the need to be alert. At Mieza the worst he would have to face was some childish prank. In the barracks he shared a room with Perdiccas and Seleucus, neither of whom bore him any ill will for his close friendship with Alexander. Hephaestion was not fool enough to believe that the men here would not try to molest him in some way. Few of them made any effort to mask the fact that they intended to take him. So Hephaestion forced himself to remain conscious despite his body's demands for rest.

A hand appeared out of the darkness, latching onto his left ankle and pulling hard. Not having heard a sound of approach, Hephaestion was startled enough to be drawn towards the edge of his bunk. Instinct kicked in before he could be removed from it and he lashed out, kicking with his right foot in the direction of his unseen assailant. A second hand grabbed hold of that ankle before it could make contact.

Screaming would be futile, but Hephaestion still fought even after there were hands holding each of his limbs immobile.

* * *

Standing on the battlements of the city's walls, Alexander stared in the direction of Athens. Hephaestion was somewhere in the space between. If the seas had been good, Hephaestion was likely already in Athens.

To the west the sun was dipping down below the horizon, Apollo's course finished for the day. Yet Alexander still held out the hope that some late-coming messenger would arrive with word from Hephaestion. He had conducted the same vigil every evening since Hephaestion's departure and each night was met with failure. There was still no word from Hephaestion and Alexander was beginning to fear the worst.

True to form, Cassander and Philotas made no attempt at hiding their glee that Hephaestion was temporarily gone from Pella. And though he could not prove it, or would even want to, he suspected that the impromptu drinking party they held two night's after Hephaestion had gone was in honor of the other man's absence. Their dislike of Hephaestion and the closeness they shared was something the pair had never bothered to disguise.

Rather than deal with their pettiness, Alexander spent most of his time with Ptolemy, Nearchus, Perdiccas and Seleucus. They were the only ones who could keep his mind off Hephaestion for even a short period of time. The copious amounts of alcohol they filled him with nightly were definitely a contributing factor, but their mornings spent hunting were equally enjoyable when he focused himself on the prey they were after.

There was no stopping his dreams, though, or the screams that filled them. Screams that were beginning to sound ever more like Hephaestion.


	3. Part III

As one month bled into two, Alexander's fears became an absolute certainty that something foul had happened to Hephaestion. Alexander had sent several letters to Athens and not one had received a response. While that alone was not enough to prove foul play given the length it took to deliver letter, Hephaestion should have sent some of his own. At least some assurance that he had arrived safely in Athens.

His nightmares had only increased to the point when it was a rarity that he was able to sleep through the night. Even on those nights when he was not woken by his dreams, his sleep was hardly a peaceful one and he would wake exhausted in the morning. Years of deprivation under Leonidas' tutelage had trained Alexander to do without and so he was able to function even as the dark rings continued to grow under his eyes.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Alexander leaned against the battlements staring out towards the horizon. He would need to join the Vanguard for training shortly, but for the moment he could indulge himself.

"Alexander, a messenger has just arrived from Athens," Perdiccas called as he jobbed across the battlements to where Alexander stood. "Your father sent me to fetch you."

* * *

Standing on her private balcony, Olympias brushed the end of a sable plait of hair against her cheek. A braided length of the treat's once long hair. It was the token that had been presented to her by the mercenaries who had delivered the boy to the slavers from the mines. Her own spies had also confirmed the transfer of the former threat to her son's succession. Alexander may miss the boy at the moment, but he would be stronger for the loss in the end.

For a time she had been content to leave them be. Alexander and the boy had only been doing what came naturally to all young men. Only Alexander was not like all young men. He was the become king and it was unseemly for him to allow another man to dominate him. And there could be no mistaking what she had witnessed.

_Two boys, one light, one dark, reclined, twisted together upon the large bed. Alexander lay on his side before the other boy, upper leg lifted and resting atop the thigh of the one behind him. Both boys were erect as they thrust against one another, gasping and crying out; each supplying a hand to stroke the golden one's erection. Most unseemly of all was the joy on her little Achilles' face as he twisted his upper body about to kiss the long-haired demon ravishing him. Perverting him._

"_Gods, Phae...." her sweet boy moaned against those cursed lips._

"_Alexander...." the other one gasped, his eyes squeezed shut tight. "My Achilles...."_

_With his free hand, her little Achilles cupped the other one's cheek, drawing him down once again. His back arched, the cry lost between the demon's lips as he pilled himself. There was some shuddering and a might groan as the Underworld creature polluted her golden one._

_The bodies remained in a tangled mess, the both of them whispering and panting against heated flesh. Her Alexander was not fighting to free himself as he should have, instead grumbling and unintelligible protest when the dark one moved to pull away._

"_Stay, Phaestion. My Patroclus. Stay till the hammering of my heart slows," her darling son sighed, drawing their already joined and semen-stained hands to his chest._

_Panting against the side of Alexander's shoulder, the demon nodded. "I could stay forever._

It had taken more than two months, but she had found a way to remove the threat from her son's life. Servants were nothing if not helpful, especially those whose loyalties could be bought.

* * *

Though he desperately wanted to run to the great hall, Alexander knew that it was unacceptable for him to do so. Instead he settled for walking briskly through the corridors. His father would not have sent for him if it was a regular messenger which meant it had something to do with Hephaestion. He was desperate to hope that it was good news and that it was Hephaestion who was the messenger, but such hopes had been dashed from him long ago. Those hopes were a weakness and neither of his parents would allow him to be weak.

In the great hall, Philip, a handful of Alexander's own companions, and several other courtiers were waiting for him. To a man, they all wore grim expressions. Even Ptolemy who ever searched out the single spark of hope in a mass of darkness could not offer him a comforting smile.

"Hephaestion has not reached Athens, has he?" Alexander asked, staring directly at his father.

Philip pursed his lips and held a scroll out towards him. "He has not. He should have arrived before his mother passed, but there has been no sign of either him or his escort."

"That does not mean that the worst should automatically be assumed," Alexander tried to rationalize.

"There has been no demand for ransom and already more than a month has passed since he was last reported to have been seen."

Try as he might, Alexander could find no way to refute the logic. His heart was too entangled in the matter to remove emotion from his reasoning. Hephaestion was what he cared for most in the world and the possibility that the other man could be lost to him was suffocating him.

Alexander did not recall leaving the hall. His body reacted without conscious thought. He had been aware of such possibilities for some time, but had hoped to never see them realized. Yet even with the confirmation that Hephaestion had never reached Athens, Alexander knew that he was not dead. Hephaestion was still living and Alexander clung tenaciously to that fact. For if Hephaestion was still alive then they would be reunited. The other possibility was one that he was not willing to face. Not when they had such plans for the future. They were to have conquered Asia together.

"I have spoken to your father and he has agreed to allow us a fortnight to search out Hephaestion's fate." As always, Ptolemy radiated a calming influence. "Seleucus and Leonnatus are seeing to the provisions at the moment. All that we wait for is you."

* * *

Patroclus had been avenged by Achilles. Even in the face of his own mortality, Achilles had sought vengeance against his lover's murderer. Alexander would do the same for him. Alexander would come for him and see that all of those who had wronged him were accorded a fitting punishment.

Eyes were ever upon him now, even as he toiled under the scorching sun. Many of them deemed him mad and those that did not were leery of him as rumors spread that he had devoured the organ of the one who had tried to rape his mouth. To others that only made him a greater challenge to be conquered. There was prestige for those who could manage the feat.

To sleep unmolested through the night was something that Hephaestion craved more than his freedom. Even on those nights when his would-be rapists failed he received no rest. Failure made the ones who came next try that much harder. Hephaestion was aware enough of his surroundings to know that there were wagers taken nightly whether his rapists would succeed. Likewise there were wagers on whether Hephaestion would kill the man or not. Hephaestion himself never saw anything of the winnings.

Hephaestion stared dispassionately at the man currently bleeding to death at the foot of his bunk. The man gasped and sputtered, clutching at the deep gouge to the side of his throat that gurgled blood. The sharpened shaft of stone that Hephaestion had used to stab the man was clutched tightly in his fist.

Achilles would come for his Patroclus and he would erase all of it.

* * *

With no definitive location to begin their search, it was decided that they would head to the nearest port town to see if anyone could recall Hephaestion and his Athenian escort. A great deal of time had passed and the memory of merchants was short, but there was no other alternative. Much as he would like to, Alexander could not simply conjure up a direction and hope for the best. Macedon and Greece were too vast for him to conduct a random search; they needed a direction.

When they had left Pella, his father had tried to insist that he bring Philotas and Cassander as two of the six that were permitted to go on the search. Alexander was just as adamant that they not go for the simple fact that the two of them despised Hephaestion and could hinder the search. In their place he took Nearchus and Harpalus, both of whom had always been friends with Hephaestion. The remaining four was made up of Ptolemy, Seleucus, Perdiccas, and Leonnatus, all men whom Alexander would trust not to put Hephaestion's life in further jeopardy.

"Alexander, we need to stop for the night. It's not safe to keep going," Ptolemy said, appearing at his side. For much of the ride Alexander and Bucephalas had been a few lengths ahead. "The roads will be dangerous for the horses after dark."

Glancing in the direction of the setting sun, Alexander frowned. He had hoped to reach Thermia before nightfall and being his search for Hephaestion. It meant another torturous night away from his beloved lover.

"Find a place to camp for the night," he unwillingly consented. "Send Perdiccas and Leonnatus to hunt down some hares. I'll return shortly."

For a moment, Ptolemy looked as though he would protest. Alexander knew that he desperately wanted to insist that he not wander off alone. In this instance, however, Alexander would not be denied. Leaving the others to construct their camp, Alexander continued on around the bend in the path. He needed momentary solitude.

Leading Bucephalas off the track, Alexander dismounted and led his horse towards a flat patch of grass. He knew that Bucephalas would not wander off and dropped the reigns, continuing on a few steps before dropping to his knees. Alexander began clawing at the grass, tearing it up until there was a small patch of dirt revealed. Using one hand to clear away any remaining debris, he fished a small flask of wine out of the satchel that was looped over his shoulder. Alexander uncorked the flask and dumped its entire contents into the dirt.

"I beseech any of you gods who hear this to keep Hephaestion safe. His only crime has been to love me and he should not be made to suffer for it. Please, I will offer up any fee that you require, just do not take him from me."

Alexander watched as the wine seeped slowly into the dirt, the gods accepting his offer. What the fee for Hephaestion's safety would be he did not yet know, but would gladly offer it up when the time came.

Alexander stayed kneeling in that spot until the sun's rays began to fade into twilight. To stay away any longer would only serve to worry the others so Alexander rose slowly to his feet. He left the flask behind, a second offering to the gods, and mounted Bucephalas.

Seleucus met him halfway, not actively searching him out, but rather acting as a sort of living guidepost to lead him to their camp.

"Ptolemy will be relieved to see you returning so soon," Seleucus said as Alexander rode abreast of him.

Alexander nodded his head, but was otherwise silent for a few minutes. Thoughts that he had dared not speak before were suddenly crowding inside his skull, plaguing him with unwanted fears. Fears that could very well prove true.

"Do you think we will find Hephaestion alive?" Alexander asked, giving voice to his fears for the first time.

"I think that, wherever Hephaestion is right now, he is as desperate to get to you as you are to him," Seleucus said after a brief hesitation. "He would fight until his last breath to get to you."

* * *

Twisting his wrists about in the ropes that bound him face-first to the post, he tried to distract himself from the flaring pain in his back. Lightning strikes of pain each time the whip flashed against his back. It was not the first time he had been flogged in his life, but it was the first time his punisher meant to draw blood and leave lasting scars. The only rebellion that he could offer up was that he did not scream. His bottom lip was bloody and swollen, but no cry passed between them.

When it was over, water was sluiced over his back and that was the only medical care he received. Care almost as painful as the wounds themselves. As he was but from the pole it was all that he could do not to drop to his knees. His legs felt suddenly boneless and he gripped the post tight to remain standing.

"The next time you kill one of my workers it will be double," the whip-master hissed in his ear. Then, loud, as he stalked away, "The rest of you get back to work."

He was not sure how long he stood gripping that post. Try as he might to coax his limbs into cooperating, the only thing his body seemed capable of doing at the moment was keeping him conscious and upright. His entire body shook, reacting to the pain that was radiating from his ravaged back. Eventually he would have to move from that place and either stagger back to the barracks or into the mines depending on whether the foreman took pity on his condition. Pity that would only last until nightfall. He had no idea how he would survive the night. The foreman had taken his knife and smashed into pieces on the rocks when he had been arrested. Already he knew that he did not have the strength to fashion a second one before nightfall. The only way he could escape whatever the night would bring was to escape the mines themselves.

Escape was something that he had contemplated from the beginning and had been tempted to put into action even without a plan after that first night. The punishment, however, was not one that he would risk. If he was caught he would be dead and as much of a release as that would be, he could not abandon Alexander. Alexander was coming for him and he intended to be alive when he was found.

He would live until Alexander found him so that Alexander would not think that he had failed. Alexander could not think that it was his fault. So he would never speak of the queen's involvement just as he knew Olympias herself never would.

There were poisons that would take care of the rest when the time came.


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

It was near the outskirts of Thermia when Bucephalas began to snort and rear. Alexander was caught momentarily off guard, but managed to remain mounted and immediately began scanning the area to see what had spooked his horse. The others all had their swords out and had formed a protective circle around him.

As soon as he was able to calm Bucephalas somewhat, Alexander saw what had spooked the animal.

"Xanthus?" Alexander murmured as he allowed Bucephalas to nudge his way between Perdiccas and Harpalus' mounts.

Even at a distance he recognized the chestnut gelding that was sharing a paddock with several less well-bred horses. Not only had it perked up at the noises Bucephalas was making, but, when it turned, Alexander could see a scar on its left shoulder. A single line of scar tissue that, when extended, lined up with one on Hephaestion's left calf. It was a remnant of Chaeronea, the arrow striking Xanthus first before embedding itself in Hephaestion's calf. Hephaestion had walked with a limp for weeks afterwards because of it.

Spotting a farmer near the paddocks, Alexander dug his heels into Bucephalas' sides, cantering across the relatively short distance, the thunder of the six other horses following him. Xanthus was prancing about at the fence, his massive head fixed on Bucephalas. All of the commotion had attracted the farmer's attention and he was slowly making his way towards the approaching horsemen.

"Joy to you," Alexander greeted the farmer, his eyes darting between man and beast. "Tell me, how did you come to possess the gelding?"

Scratching at his chin, the man eyed him skeptically. "And just why do you want to know?"

This time Alexander's gaze was focused solely on the man. "The horse belongs to the son of General Amyntor of Athens, a loyal servant of my father, King Philip. It has recently been discovered that the general's son is missing so I would know how you came by his horse."

The farmer immediately whipped the hat from his head, his eyes lowered. "I bought him from an Illyrian soldier a few weeks back. He said that it was no longer fit for battle. It is a fine beast, well cared for, so I purchased it. Figured I would sell it to one of the merchants in Thermia."

"Did he say what he was doing so far from his homeland?"

"Only that he had business in Pella."

* * *

He lay trembling on his bunk, his fingers scrabbling uselessly at the thin blanket beneath him. He desperately wanted to cover himself with it, but could not coordinate his body enough to dislodge it from under himself. His grip was ineffectual, his arms shook too much to pull with any real force, his knees were too wobbly to support his weight, nor could he lay on his back for the ravaging that his back and buttocks had taken over the course of that too long day. He could vividly feel each of the welts that criss-crossed his back just as surely as he could feel the semen that leaked from his abused hole.

"Please come, my Achilles," he whispered into the soiled blanket. His eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that a few tears slipped past the lids. He pressed his face hard against the uncomfortable surface of the bedding, refusing to give into his tears. He could not afford to break.

Alexander would come soon and then he could end it all.

* * *

Alexander was torn. It seemed most logical that he would find information about Hephaestion in Thermia, but the fact that Hephaestion's horse had been in the hands of an Illyrian was hinting that his love could be in Illyria. He wished very much that he could split himself in two and go in both directions. The fact that they were only a few hours from Thermia made the decision at least temporarily.

However that was not enough to silence the voice in his head screaming for him to abandon Thermia and go to Illyria. It was only the fact that he would live forever with the guilt if he later discovered that Hephaestion had been in Thermia and that he had turned away which kept him headed towards the port town.

"Hephaestion will not have passed through Thermia unnoticed," Ptolemy tried to reassure him. "If he was here someone will have seen him. And if no one has, we return to Pella and start again."

It was a simple enough proposition and one that Alexander would not have thought twice about had the situation involved anyone other than Hephaestion. Where Hephaestion was concerned he found himself incapable of reason. For the present, Ptolemy and the others were acting as his voice of reason. It would free him up to listen to the messages his heart was screaming at him.

Hephaestion was alive.

He was in pain.

He was desperately waiting to be found.

Alexander would give his last breath if necessary to ensure that Hephaestion was found and brought home safely.

* * *

Olympias could not believe that Philip had allowed Alexander to run off in search of the Athenian brat. Did he not realize that without him Alexander would only grow stronger? It was a mere childhood infatuation that existed between Alexander and Amyntor's boy, nothing more. It would not produce anything lasting. Alexander would only experience the same heartache she had when she had first learned that she had no claim on Philip's affections. Dionysus had brought them together in order that she be placed in the position to make her son a king and for that alone she was willing to suffer the loss of a love she had once believed would last all her life. Alexander's infatuation would offer no such benefits. In time he would understand. He would learn never to place his heart in another's care because none would ever safeguard it properly. She was the only one who would not cast him aside.

* * *

"No, none of the Illyrians had a boy with them," one of the dock masters said, barely glancing up from his manifest. "No large cargo, either. At least not large enough to hide a body in."

Though the man had no idea of who he was speaking to—either as prince or lover –his callus words still filled Alexander with rage. That Hephaestion's life should be cast in such a trivial light disgusted him.

The dock master glanced up for a moment, his brows furrowing. "One of them was wearing a bit of jewelry just like that, though," he said, pointing to the medallion that hung from Alexander's neck. "Said he got it from a slave that was bound for the mines. Fool had tried to bribe his freedom with it. Bit of wood would never be worth the rice of a slave, regardless of who was carved upon it."

All of the breath escaped Alexander's lungs as though he had received a punch to the gut. Hephaestion was in one of the mines along the Illyrian border. It was no coincidence that first Hephaestion's horse and then the medallion Alexander had given him were found in the hands of Illyrian mercenaries. What remained unknown was the fate of the Athenian escort. Had they been a part of the plot or were they victims as well?

"We leave. Now," Alexander ordered once he had breath enough to speak. "Already we have stayed too long here."

So many thoughts crowded in his head as they rode from the city. The mines. A most wretched and vile place, a living embodiment of Hades. The only fate more terrifying that that he could conjure up would be for Hephaestion to be made a slave in Persia. His beloved Hephaestion, loyal, stubborn, strong and brave to a fault, was trapped in a living torment. Torments that had been haunting his dreams for weeks. Morpheus had tried to reveal Hephaestion's fate to him and Alexander had allowed himself to be convinced that it was only his own fears plaguing him.

"We would have never discovered where Hephaestion is had we not come here," Ptolemy spoke up as they rode a brisk pace along the road that would take them back to Pella and, beyond it, to Illyria and Hephaestion.

Alexander's left hand strayed to the medallion that hung around his neck. He had had both it and Hephaestion's commissioned especially when their time at Mieza was coming to an end. Their time separated from the concerns of the world was coming to an end and he had wanted there to be a physical reminder of those years. He was the one who had slipped the leather cord about Hephaestion's neck just as Hephaestion had done for him. Alexander had never taken it off since that day just as he knew that Hephaestion had not until it was ripped from his neck by the Illyrian mercenaries.

_Alexander arched his hips, grinding himself against Hephaestion's stomach. Hephaestion was lazily tracing patterns over his chest, pausing periodically to place soft, open-mouthed kisses on his skin. He could not help but cry out as Hephaestion's blunt teeth scraped over his nipple._

"_Gods, I love you so, my Alexander," Hephaestion gasped, rolling them over so that Alexander was now the one on top. "More than my life."_

_Alexander stared down at the other boy in wonder. There was no ulterior motive, no hidden agenda. When he looked into Hephaestion's eyes all that he could see was love. Hephaestion loved him and his trust in him was absolute. Alexander had never experienced anything like it in his life and he feared what would happen when they returned to Pella._

_Pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to Hephaestion's cheek, Alexander heaved himself up onto his knees and reached back to where their clothes lay in a heap. Hephaestion's toes running over his calves was utterly distracting, as he was sure it was intended, but he was able to find his belt and the pouch attached to it. Alexander sat down on his heels and held a hand out towards Hephaestion, drawing him up so that they were face to face._

"_Before we lose ourselves entirely and the day slips away from us, I wanted to give you something," Alexander murmured as he unfastened the ties on his pouch._

_Hephaestion lifted a hand to cup the side of Alexander's neck, drawing him closer so that their foreheads touched. "You are tense as a bow string. You do not need to be so nervous with me, Alexander."_

"_I am not nervous," Alexander insisted as his fingers closed around the objects he was searching for. He drew them out slowly, glancing down at his hand for a moment before uncurling his fingers. In his palm were two wooden medallions tied with leather cords. "I want there to be something that will bind us together even when we are apart. Something physical that can be touched."_

_Hephaestion's wide smile was enough to silence any lingering doubts. "I will willingly bind myself to you in any way."_

_Passing Hephaestion one of the medallions, Alexander started to place his own head when Hephaestion's hand on his wrist stopped him._

"_Let me."_

_Leaning forward, Hephaestion looped the pendant over his head and when it fell, laid his hand over the wooden disk and pressed it to Alexander's chest. Exhaling heavily through his nose, Alexander returned the gesture. They stared at each other for several long minutes, hand pressed to the other's chest. Hephaestion inclined his head and Alexander met him halfway._

"_I will love you until the end of my days and beyond," Hephaestion moaned against his lips._

"_You are the other half of me," Alexander echoed, slipping his fingers into Hephaestion's hair and drawing him closer. "My Patroclus."_

The following morning they had left Mieza and were no longer boys. Their time together was limited after Mieza, but Alexander had always taken comfort from the medallions that they both wore. He had hoped for them to be a talisman that would keep the two of them safe. They had escaped Chaeronea relatively unscathed and he had hoped that the spirits of Achilles and Patroclus would continue to protect them.

"I will be with you soon," Alexander whispered as he closed his fist about the wooden disk. "Wait for me."

* * *

He stared at the inside of his left wrist. Even in the dim light of the barracks he could make out the faint blue lines that passed the blood through his body. It would be so easy. A deep enough cut to the delicate skin of his inner wrist and it would all be over. He would be free.

Only he could not leave Alexander. He could not, not while the chance remained that Alexander would blame himself. The world was heavy enough upon his shoulders already, balancing himself between his parents and their never-ending war. He refused to add another burden to his beloved's already heavy heart. He would die first.

Closing his hand into a tight fist, he pressed both of his wrists against his knees. "Stop thinking like this," he growled under his breath. "It does not matter. Not to him. He will not care."

And while in the end it might not matter to Alexander, it would to him. Forever would he remember the feel of those other hands upon his skin. Fingers squeezing his hips, rough nails scoring his back and thighs, teeth knowing at his shoulders. Even now, when he was alone in his bunk, he could feel those hands upon him.

"Please come," he whispered, turning his face into his right shoulder to hopefully mask the sound of the sob he could feel building up within him.

All that he wanted was for it to be over.


	5. Part V

**Part V**

"Father, I need the latest reports you have on the Illyrian mines," Alexander demanded as he stalked into Philip's study. He did not care that his father was in the middle of a meeting with his generals, he needed to find out where Hephaestion was.

"Not now, boy, I'm busy," Philip snarled, wine sloshing over his wrist as he gesticulated wildly with his right hand which held a goblet.

"Hephaestion is in one of the Illyrian mines."

Philip paused at that, staring levelly at Alexander out of his one good eye. "You are certain?"

"Illyrian mercenaries had both Hephaestion's horse and the medallion I gave him. The one with the medallion boasted that he had taken it from a slave that was sent to the mines," Alexander explained in a rush, already moving towards the stack of reports on his father's desk. "I need to know which mine Hephaestion was sent to so that I can bring him home."

More familiar with the chaotic state of his desk, Philip found the necessary scrolls immediately. He scanned through them then pressed one over to Alexander who was shifting impatiently beside him. "If the boy is anywhere, it is here. This is the only one of them to have any new slaves sent to it."

"Thank you, Father," Alexander murmured, nodded briefly at the older man before rushing from the room. He meant to be gone from Pella before nightfall. Regardless, it would be a few days before he reached Illyria. More days that he and Hephaestion would be separated, the latter not knowing that he had been found.

"You are taking a proper escort with you this time, Alexander."

He had nearly made it to the door when his father's voice stopped him.

Pausing, he glanced back over his shoulder. "I do not have time to waste with an escort."

Philip crossed his arms over his chest. "Then you do not go. Allowing you to head to the coast was one thing, but Illyria is another matter entirely. The tribesmen there will not care that you are my son. You are more likely to be killed because of that fact."

"A light escort then only, Father. I will not be held up by them."

It was a portion of the Vanguard that made up Alexander's escort. He knew each man and was confident that none would attempt to hinder him. Save for Philotas and Cassander. When leaving Pella a second time late in the afternoon he could find no reason to insist that the two remain behind. Parmenion and Antipater would see it as a personal snub which his father would not allow.

"Do anything to place Hephaestion's life in further jeopardy and you will not return to Pella," Alexander said, reigning Bucephalas in next to them for a moment before digging his heels in and moving to the front of the column.

Alexander's gave was fixed to the northeast where Illyria and Hephaestion lay waiting for him. He would not turn back towards Pella until Hephaestion was with him.

* * *

Every time he would life something, a line of fire streaked across his back. It was sharp and agonizing and more than once he had nearly dropped his load. On top of that his head ached terribly and his hands seemed to tremble continuously.

When he stumbled after depositing his latest load he could not catch himself in time and fell to his knees. The impact sent a radiating wave of pain all through his body, forcing a cry past his lips. He remained on his knees for several long minutes, waiting for the pain to subside long enough so that he could climb back to his feet. Except that he could not. Try as he might, he could not force his knees to support his weight.

"On your feet, boy," the foreman shouted from somewhere to his right. "Get him up!"

Two sets of hands latched onto his arms and hauled him up. He wavered between them, his legs no more willing to bear his weight than they had been before. His vision began to shift out of focus as well, hazy at the edges and creeping ever inward. The fire that had only been in his back now consumed his entire body. Smoldering in his flesh and scorching his vision.

"Alexander," he moaned as he momentarily sighted a flash of golden hair. "Please…."

"Get him out of here," the foreman snarled.

Then he was being dragged away. Opposite from where Alexander had been. He tried to struggle away from them, but doubted that they even noticed. They merely grunted and pulled him along.

"Come back," he sobbed, fingers straining where Alexander had been.

The blackness that had only been on the edges before was growing.

"Come back…."

* * *

Had it been only him and Bucephalas, Alexander was certain that the journey to Illyria would only take three days. Less if he pushed Bucephalas. Quick as that was to cross the entire breadth of Macedon, it was still far too long for him to be separated from Hephaestion. Especially when he knew with an absolute certainty that his lover was suffering. It was not the back breaking labor so much as the men themselves that filled Alexander with dread. Strong as he was, Hephaestion was still only one man. Alexander would not think any less of him or love him any less regardless of what happened. All that mattered to him was that Hephaestion lived.

"Civilization does not currently exist for Hephaestion," Cleitus had warned him when they had left Pella. "The mines revert men back to the baseness of our past and a man must do all that he can to survive. Anything that Hephaestion has had to do to stay alive should not be held against him."

"It would never matter to me."

In the end, regardless of what had happened, all that would concern him was that Hephaestion was alive. Achilles did not survive long without Patroclus and neither would be survive long without Hephaestion. Only a month had passed and already he was nearly undone.

* * *

For the first time, Olympias began to worry. She had not counted on Alexander discovering the boy's fate so quickly. She had hoped several months to have passed, for the more time that passed the less likely it was that the Athenian brat would survive. Killing him outright would have been more prudent, but she had wanted him to suffer for thinking that he could usurp her position in Alexander's life. Or for daring to believe that he could place himself above the son of Zeus himself. Childhood infatuation or not, Amyntor's son should not have been so bold.

"You will not be victorious over me," Olympias murmured as she dropped the braided length of hair into a brazier. Incense already in the bowl kept the scent from being over-powering. "I am his mother and he knows that I will only ever do what is in his best interest. He will come to understand that you were only ever a hindrance."

With luck, however, the boy would already be dead and Alexander would know nothing of her involvement.

* * *

All of Alexander's fear crystallized as they approached the mines. All of the workers were little more than shadows of them they had once been. Hollowed sacks of flesh that barely resembled men in either body or spirit. Those that were not withered to mere phantoms were demons masquerading as mortals.

"My lord, you honor us with your presence," the foreman, Hermolaus, said as he approached his steps quick. "I was unaware that the king took such an interest in our humble operation."

Alexander barely spared the man a glance, his eyes searching out Hephaestion in the crowd. "He does not. I do. Six weeks ago you received a new shipment of slaves. It is suspected that numbered among them is a man named Hephaestion Amyntoros. He is a companion of mine and the son of one of my father's generals."

Beside him, the foreman stiffened. Hephaestion was near.

"It would be in your best interest to have Hephaestion brought here immediately," Alexander ground out, the man's obvious fear filling him with unease.

"My lord, what you ask is impossible—"

Alexander had Harmolaus on his back before he could even finish his sentence, a knife poised at his throat. "You should choose your next words wisely for Hephaestion is very dear to me."

"He is not dead!" Harmolaus cried out, his eyes darting about in search of aid. "There was a boy who called himself that and he is still here. He lives!"

Though momentarily relieved, Alexander did not allow himself to relent. He maintained his enraged façade, pressing the knife more firmly to the foreman's throat. "If Hephaestion cannot be brought to me, then I will go to him. Immediately. Am I understood?"

"Completely, my lord," Harmolaus gasped, nodding his head as much as a blade at his throat would allow.

"Cleitus and Ptolemy, come with me. The rest of you remain here," Alexander ordered as he rose to his feet, only sheathing his knife when the foreman began scrambling deeper into the mining complex.

Hephaestion was near. Alexander could feel that closeness singing in his veins. His whole body felt as though it were vibrating, a combination of tension and elation. While he had been assured of his beloved's presence in the camp, Harmolaus' attitude did nothing to reassure him. He had known that Hephaestion would not escape his time in slavery unscathed, but for the first time he truly began to fear for his lover. The fact that he was being led to what was obviously a medical tent did nothing to maintain his hopes.

"What happened to him?" Alexander demanded as the foreman led him into the infirmary.

"He was disciplined and has developed an infection as a result."

Alexander knew immediately what the punishment had been Hephaestion had been flogged. While it was not the first time he had received such a punishment, Alexander was fairly certain that it was the first time he had received inadequate care afterwards. The severity of the situation did not strike him until they stepped into the infirmary and Alexander saw the state of the other patients. Men blackened by the soot of underground torches, limbs crushed or broken and bodies wasted away to little more than bones and sinews.

"The one who called him Hephaestion is in the back."

Even before Harmolaus spike, Alexander had spotted his love. Thin, skin pale as a marble column and his hair copped into unruly spikes, Alexander still recognized the other man and his body sagged to see him brought so low. Alexander kept his eyes locked on Hephaestion's still form as he staggered through the cramped space. As he neared, he could see the raw, infected weals that marred Hephaestion's back, standing out all the more against his ashen skin.

"Phae…." Alexander moaned as he dropped to his knees alongside Hephaestion's cot. "I should have come sooner…."

The figure on the bed offered no response and had it not been for the harsh gasps of his breathing, he would have thought Hephaestion dead. He was almost afraid to touch the other man, fearful that he would only hurt him more. Hephaestion's almost inaudible whimper decided things for him and Alexander immediately laid his hand over Hephaestion's sunken cheek.

"I should have started looking sooner," Alexander whispered, his eyes never leaving Hephaestion's face. "I knew that you would not leave without seeing me and I did nothing for a month. An entire month. You were suffering all this time…."

"You could not have known," Ptolemy sought to assure him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "None of us could have. Nor would any of us have wished this on Hephaestion."

Alexander shook his head, his fingers slipping up into Hephaestion's unkempt hair. "There are many who would have done this to him. Many hate him simply because I love him."

Ptolemy and Cleitus both attempted to deny this, but Alexander knew the truth. Hephaestion was hated by a great many for the simple fact that Alexander trusted and love him most.

"I will make it right," Alexander murmured, leaning in close to brush his lips against Hephaestion's temple. He lingered a moment, head bowed, before sitting back. "Each of you take an end of the cot. I want Hephaestion out of this house of death. He will not recover here."

Alexander kept a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder as Cleitus and Ptolemy hoisted the narrow cot off the hard-packed ground. Now that he had found his love again he had no intention of ever allowing him out of his sight. He would not lose Hephaestion for the loss would surely wound him as severely as the loss of Patroclus had Achilles.

_

* * *

Hephaestion roused slowly, aware almost instantly of a solid weight pressing against his shoulder. His confusion was only momentary, his nose becoming aware of a scent that belonged to only one person. Alexander. For the first time Alexander had remained through the night instead of slinking off like some thief in the pre-dawn hours._

_Closing his eyes once again, Hephaestion silently entreated Apollo to slow his course so that he could enjoy the feel of Alexander sleeping peacefully in his embrace a while longer._

A cool hand touched his brow, drawing him away from his memories. Try as he might, he could think of no time when he had been as content as when they had been at Mieza. Without politics or his warring parents to muddy things up, he had been able to see Alexander as he truly was. So he wanted those memories to be forefront, the last thing he was aware of when the three sisters finally took pity on him.

_A smile curving his lips, Hephaestion lifted a hand to run through Alexander's hair...._


	6. Part VI

**Part VI**

"I want every man who touched him dead," Alexander declared, his voice deadly even as he tenderly caressed Hephaestion's hair. "They brutalized him for over a month and they need to suffer for it."

Cleitus nodded his head solemnly. "No doubt they do, lad, but it will be impossible to determine just who the culprits are."

"Hephaestion will know."

"So you will have him relive his horrors just so that you can appease your guilt?"

Alexander's entire body stiffened and Cleitus knew that he had finally gotten through to the boy. At first Alexander had wanted to crucify every man within the mine, guilty or not. There had been no need for the doctor they'd brought with them from Pella to tell them just how much Hephaestion had suffered. One only needed to look at his body. And serious as the infected welts were to his physical health, Cleitus knew that it was the more intimate injuries that were the most dangerous.

"Kill them all will not erase it," Cleitus said, crouching down so that he was as eye level with Alexander who was seated on the ground next to Hephaestion's cot. "Hephaestion will not be the same as he was before and you must be prepared for that. Something like this changes who a man is and there is no going back."

"Regardless of how this affects him, he will always be my Hephaestion," Alexander said bravely. A bravery born out of love; one that was strong enough to have kept Hephaestion alive thus far.

It was the night that Cleitus feared. Most souls, when not lost in the battle itself, often departed while the rest of the world slumbered. Cleitus worried for Alexander if nightfall claimed Hephaestion as well. Though he would grieve for the boy, he could not help but think it a blessing if the Fates cut Hephaestion's thread while he slept. The boy's dreams were untroubled at the moment and waking would only return him to a suffering that their physician Philip could not assure them Hephaestion would recover from.

"You will have to be strong for him now and put his needs above your own."

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Ptolemy had bee staring at Alexander's tent since the doctor had left a short while before. The only information Philip shared with them was that for the moment Hephaestion was still alive. They were only hollow words, meant to comfort and mask the truth about his condition. In all probability Hephaestion would not live out the night, a possibility that the physician had been wise to keep silent about for fear of invoking Alexander's wrath.

It was a blessing that they had found Hephaestion while he still lived. Alexander would be given a chance to bid Hephaestion farewell and not spend the rest of his life haunted by that lost moment. So where before he had prayed that they would find Hephaestion alive, Ptolemy now entreated the gods to allow the injured man to wake long enough to grant Alexander that farewell.

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He had hoped that it was only Hephaestion's body they would find and that the man himself would be dead. His death would be devastating to Alexander regardless, but there was finality in death as opposed to Hephaestion's now lingering existence. He had seen the body and knew that Hephaestion was not long for the world and the longer he held on the more Alexander's hopes grew. It was only a matter of how far Alexander would fall when Hephaestion breathed his last. The further he fell, the less chance he would recover from the loss.

Of course, Hephaestion was always surprising them.

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There was no news yet from Illyria and Philip was not certain whether it bode good or ill. Already he had his spies out, searching for information about the boy's abduction. Alexander would not rest until he knew and Amyntor deserved to know why his son had been made to suffer so. Philip only hoped that his own intuition concerning the abduction was proved false. Alexander was difficult to control as it was and if he even suspected Olympias' involvement in his friend's disappearance Philip found that he could not predict what the consequences would be. Grateful as he would be to no longer have the woman poisoning Alexander against him, he could not wish something like that on his son. Better that it was just a random abduction.

With news that morning that Amyntor was on his way to Pella to inter the ashes of his deceased Macedonian wife, Philip could only pray that the boy was found alive. He did not want to add one tragedy to another.

Philip knew with absolute certainty, though, that Alexander would not rest until he had found Hephaestion.

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Never before had he seen Hephaestion lie so still. In his sleep Hephaestion was ever twitching, his body as restless as his mind. It could be as simple as his fingers clenching and unclenching, but Alexander would often stay awake for hours watching those sluggish movements. With the exception of the irregular expansion of his chest as he breathed, Hephaestion was utterly still and Alexander feared that the most.

"Please, Phae, wake up," Alexander murmured as he laid his head alongside Hephaestion's, the fingers of his left hand slipping through the viciously hacked locks. "You are safe. I am here with you now and I swear that no one else will hurt you like this again. I will kill any who try. I do not know the identity of the ones who hurt you, but I swear that as soon as I discover them they will die. They should not have used you for sport...."

Alexander squeezed his lips together tight, willing away the tears he could feel burning against the back of his eyes. Philip had not needed to tell him the extent of Hephaestion's injuries for him to know. The instant he had removed the tattered remains of Hephaestion's chiton and had seen the finger-shaped bruises on his hips and thighs he had known. Knew that before what had been offered freely out of love had instead been taken by force.

Yet it did not alter Hephaestion to him. If anything, his love and admiration only grew because of what Hephaestion had been able to survive.

"I understand that you are so very tired, but if you could just wake for a moment," he pleaded with the unconscious man. "Let me see you living and awake. After I will let you sleep as long as you need; until your body has healed. Hephaestion, please...."

And while Hephaestion's eyelids did not flicker, the fingers of his right hand curled inwards slightly. They remained that way, fingertips pressed into the bedding, creating a space for Alexander's own hand. The positioning was a bit awkward, but when Hephaestion's grip tightened around his own he found that he did not care in the least.

"Cleitus and Philip are arguing whether it would be best to remove the collar now or wait until you have recovered," Alexander spoke, wanting to fill the heavy silence. "I want it gone now so that you do not have to feel its weight when you wake, but Philip would rather wait a day or two for you to regain your strength. Wise as his words are, they do not take the collar from your neck. So long as it does not pain you, I will endure its presence."

Even so it was a minor thing when held up against all that Hephaestion had endured in the past weeks. Philip had not made light of Hephaestion's injuries, informing him that he had seen men die from less. It was a testament to Hephaestion's will that he still lived.

"You knew that I would come for you," Alexander whispered, mostly to himself. "I am sorry that I did not come sooner. I hesitated and because of that you suffered. No more, though."

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_Hephaestion did not bother to look up from the scroll he was reading when he heard the door open yet again. "I am fine, Perdiccas. It is my pride that is smarting more than anything else."_

"_So I would imagine," an all too familiar voice chuckled._

_Lowering the scroll, Hephaestion glanced towards the doorway where Alexander stood, his expression warm and affectionate. There was also a hint of amusement in his eyes._

"_I expected to see you some time ago," Hephaestion said, doing his best to keep his embarrassment from showing on his face._

"_I was in a meeting with my father and only just found out about your mishap," Alexander revealed as he entered the room. He closed and bolted the door behind him._

"_Perdiccas and Seleucus share this room also. It is unfair to lock them out of their own lodgings."_

"_I have arranged other accommodations for them tonight."_

_As he spoke, Alexander sat down next to Hephaestion on the narrow bed. Hephaestion had not bothered to redress after the physician had left and was utterly bare save for the wide strip of linen that bound his left arm immobile to his chest. Glaucus had insisted upon such precautious, stating that he had seen far too many young men hinder their recoveries by failing to heed his orders. With only one arm available to him presently, he had thought it pointless to struggle to dress himself when he was already confined to his quarters until the following day._

"_I find it quite perplexing that you can survive the Maedi campaign with little more than a scratch, but cannot do a lap around the practice arena without being thrown from your mount," Alexander mused, his expression serious as he examined Hephaestion's badly bruised and swollen shoulder._

_Hephaestion angled his head so that he was able to rest his forehead against Alexander's shoulder. "Xanthus and I are still becoming accustomed to one another."_

"Let me see you living and awake. After I will let you sleep as long as you need; until your body has healed. Hephaestion, please...."

The words were Alexander's, but they were out of place. Alexander had said something to that effect at Chaeronea, not the afternoon he had been unhorsed by the then untrained Xanthus. It was all wrong. He could not even keep his memories intact. Whichever of the gods he had offended was taking even that from him.

"_Dionysus sees all that you do, son of Amyntor, and he does not approve."_

"I want it gone now so that you do not have to feel its weight when you wake."

"_The gods themselves have blessed us. Of that I am certain," Alexander murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the center of Hephaestion's sweat damp chest, directly over his pounding heart. "We will travel to India as Dionysus did and find our way to the shores of the encircling ocean. To the world's end. We will be remembered throughout all of time just as Achilles and Patroclus."_

_Rubbing the insides of his thighs against Alexander's hips, Hephaestion offered up an exhausted smile. "Those are lofty dreams indeed."_

"_Dreams that we will see fulfilled."_

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As he cared for his patient, Philip could not help but allowed the exhausted boy slumped against the narrow camp cot some of his attention. More than a day had passed since Hephaestion had been brought from the mines and he had not yet roused. Philip doubted that the young prince had slept at all during that time or on the journey to Illyria, but could not bring himself to reprimand him. Hephaestion's injuries were serious, and, though the fever had broken barely an hour before, he could not be certain that the boy would live.

Such a prognosis was not one that he would present to Alexander even if he thought it was a likely possibility.

"How is he?" Alexander yawned, his eyes still closed as his head rested next to Hephaestion's.

"The fever is gone and his breathing is stronger," Philip said as he applied a salve to the worst of the weals on Hephaestion's back. Thankfully the boy had been deeply unconscious when the infection had been drained. "However, he is still far from being recovered."

Alexander nodded his head, eyes still closed. "Hephaestion is strong. He will recover."

Philip continued silently with his work, hoping that Alexander would allow himself to be consumed by sleep at last. Hephaestion's deep sleep worked in his favour, allowing him to work without the risk of crying out and thus waking Alexander. The king would not be pleased if his son returned in ill health.

As he pressed a scented compress to Hephaestion's forehead, he was surprised to see a pair of blue eyes staring back at him. There was no recognition in the gaze, and Philip doubted whether Hephaestion was even aware of anything. The blue gaze wandered about the confines of the tent for a moment before alighting on the golden head near his shoulder. For several long seconds, Hephaestion's eyes did not waver from that sight and then slowly the lids fell shut again.

Hephaestion had been awake for only a moment, but it was longer than he would have predicted the day before when he had first seen the boy's injuries. It was still too soon to predict his chances of a full recovery, but Philip was more certain than before that Hephaestion would not go quietly if the Fates had an ill design for him.

He knew, likewise, that Alexander would not give up the other boy without a fight.


	7. Part VII

**Part VII**

It was an uncomfortable tenseness in his shoulders that roused Alexander first. He hovered in that half-awake state for a moment, uncertain as to why he should be aware of such a pain when there had been none before. The thought was not even fully formed before he bolted upright, his eyes searching out and finding Hephaestion. He had fallen asleep. Hephaestion could have died and he would have been asleep.

Ignoring his own minor pains, Alexander leaned over Hephaestion, fingers winding through his hair. When his fingers pressed against Hephaestion's scalp, it was a welcome surprise that his lover turned into his touch ever so slightly.

"Hephaestion?" Alexander whispered, clinging to the faint hope that his love was no longer quite so unconscious and could be roused slightly. "Can you hear me?"

Hephaestion's head sunk back into the pillow then and with it went any chance of him waking presently. Still, Alexander no longer felt quite so fearful. It was not a complete return to consciousness, but Hephaestion had been at least somewhat aware. Enough to recognize the hand in his hair and know that he was safe.

"How is he?"

Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Hephaestion, Alexander turned towards the entrance of the tent where Ptolemy stood. "Better than he was yesterday. Stronger."

Ptolemy bowed his head slightly, genuine relief showing on his face. "I am glad to hear it."

"There are others who will not be," Alexander murmured sadly. "I do not believe that it was pure chance that brought Hephaestion here."

"Alexander, surely no one hates Hephaestion enough to—"

"Bring the foreman here in an hour," Alexander interrupted him. "I want to know everything that happened to Hephaestion while he was here."

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Less than two hours later it took both Cleitus and Leonnatus to haul Alexander off the cowering foreman. He was spitting out vile curses and threats, the likes of which Ptolemy had never heard from Alexander before. Obvious as it was that the man was attempting to alter some of the facts, what he did say was enough to give all of them listening pause. And to reevaluate their opinions of Hephaestion Amyntoros. There was not one of them who could claim to endure all that Hephaestion had and come out in better condition. Like as not, some, if not most, of them would have died during those six weeks. Servitude in the mines was meant to break a man.

None of them dared voice the fact that, had it been anyone other than Hephaestion, none would have bothered to bat an eye over the atrocities inflicted upon the victim. A slave's death was nothing to trifle over. However, Hephaestion was no slave. He was from a well-born family and, beyond that, he was loved by a Macedonian prince. Well as Alexander treated all of his friends, none were held in such high regard as Hephaestion. Nor was it an enviable position to hold because Ptolemy becoming more and more convinced that Hephaestion's sojourn in the Illyrian mines was a direct result of his relationship with Alexander.

"You dare to claim innocence when you allowed this to carry on under your nose?" Alexander snarled, once again pulling against Cleitus' hold. "You allow a man to be raped and brutalized and then have the gall to punish him for killing one of his attackers. Not even a blind man could fail to see the extent of Hephaestion's injuries and yet you did not intervene on his behalf. Instead you allowed it to continue; no doubt taking wagers on the nightly activities. How much was Hephaestion meant to suffer before you took pity on him and killed him?"

The foreman, wisely, said nothing. He continued to kneel silently, head bowed.

"Get this man gone from my sight before I kill him."

Alexander was a lion trapped in too small a cage. Pacing about with roiling, fluid movements, snarling and biting at anyone who stepped too close. It was impossible to tell when he would lash out, only that it was an inevitability. It was a relief when Perdiccas and Nearchus dragged the foreman off; one less helpless victim for Alexander's wrath.

Cleitus was attempting to once again calm Alexander when Timoleon, Philip's young servant, came sprinting over. His path took him directly to Alexander and though Ptolemy himself could not hear the message, its content was clear in the way Alexander bolted towards his tent.

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Alexander's abrupt entry did not surprise him in the least. Philip continued silently with his work, applying a fresh bandage to Hephaestion's abraded wrist. The man on the bed, however, flinched as much as his battered body would allow.

"Phae," Alexander gasped, dropping to his knees beside the bed.

There was a long pause and then the almost breathless whisper of, "Xan...."

As he tidied up, recorking jars and gathering up bits of bandages, Philip could not help but let his eyes wandering towards the young prince. The love that he could see shining in those wide gray eyes was enough to give even Eros himself pause.

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He came back. Alexander had come back for him. The hand upon his cheek was so gentle, so familiar. His eyes burned with the beginnings of tears, but he did not dare to blink them away. Even as his vision blurred, he could still feel Alexander's palm upon his cheek. Real. Solid.

"Hephaestion," Alexander sobbed, his breath a warm puff against his cheek. "Hephaestion."

The lips against his were wet and soft. Not savage or demanding. Comforting. Alexander's. Barely a touch. Hot, damp breath, wet snuffles, silent words murmured against his lips.

Alexander had come for him. He could rest.

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Hephaestion had been awake for only a few minutes, but those moments were enough to rebuild his wavering hopes. Until he had seen Hephaestion's eyes he had feared that his lover would never wake. Philip had told him that it was the first waking that was the hardest. Hephaestion's eyes may have opened the night before, but he had not spoken until the second when Alexander himself was awake. The whisper had been gasped out on a ragged breath, but it had been Hephaestion's voice.

"Rest easy now, Hephaestion," Alexander murmured against Hephaestion's lips, unable to draw away. "You will be avenged. Those who hurt you will be made to suffer. By my will if not my hand."

There was no response from Hephaestion—no sign that he had even heard the words –but for the time being Alexander was content to simply feel Hephaestion's breath upon his cheek. Breaths that were no longer ragged, but were instead deep and even. Hephaestion was recovering. And as soon as he was well enough to travel, Alexander meant to be gone from Illyria.

Winding his body protectively about Hephaestion's, Alexander began to recite lines from the Iliad in an effort to keep himself awake in case Hephaestion should wake again. And while he would rather have spoken of the love between Achilles and Patroclus, those lines temporarily evaded him.

_He saw that Hector's armour_

_Of bronze covered him all the way, the beautiful_

_Gear he had stripped from mighty Patroclus when he_

_Cut him down. But there where the collarbones separate neck_

_And shoulders, there at his throat, most fatal of targets,_

_Appeared a spot unprotected by bronze. So there,_

_As on him he charged, great Achilles drove in his spear,_

_And the point went through his soft neck and stuck out behind._

The scene had played out in his mind more times than he could count. An image that had stuck with him since childhood of Achilles avenging the fallen Patroclus. Though now that it was time to avenge his own, Alexander found himself without a definitive foe. Hephaestion's injuries had been caused by more than one and he had not a single face to focus his anger on. Killing the foreman would appease his anger momentarily, but it would not sate it. Not until he was certain that all those who had hurt Hephaestion were dealt with. Until each one ceased to draw breath.

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Under the circumstances, Philip decided to ride out to Thermia to meet Amyntor's ship when it docked. It had been a few years since he had last seen the Athenian general, at least two years before Chaeronea. He knew just as certainly that it was Chaeronea that had brought father and son together for the last time. Hephaestion had been a part of Alexander's escort when the ashes of the fallen Athenians had been brought home. Now it was Amyntor who returned with the ashes of a Macedonian.

Though he was loathe to admit it, Philip had no answers to give the other man about his son. Only speculations. The coming days would tell whether Hephaestion continued to live. He had hoped that a messenger would have come from Illyria before Amyntor arrived from Athens. Were it his son that was missing, Philip would not stand to have no information. Even if it were Arrhidaeus that had been abducted he would tear apart all of Greece to find him. Were he to lose Alexander, however, the entire world would feel his wrath.

"Sire, there is word from Illyria!"

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The next time Hephaestion woke, Alexander managed to coax a bit of broth into him. It was only a few mouthfuls, but Philip had warned that Hephaestion would need to be eased back onto foods. It was a struggle for Alexander to abide by Philip's mandate because Hephaestion was so incredibly thin. The loss of so much muscle mass made Hephaestion look awkward and gawky in his large frame. Beyond that he looked utterly sickly and half-starved.

With the pad of his thumb, Alexander wiped away the thin residue of chicken broth from Hephaestion's lower lip. "You are looking better today, Phae. Much stronger. Philip is certain that within a few days you will be sitting up. It is strange that such a thing should seem so miraculous, but at times I still marvel over each breath you take. In all honesty there was a moment I truly believed you to be dead. I did not think that a man could be hurt as badly as you had and still continued to live. Yet you have. And it is a testimony to your strength. Because you are strong, Hephaestion. Stronger than any man I have ever known."

As he had for the past several days, Alexander spoke without thought, intending only to fill the silence while Hephaestion slept. He had hoped, though, for his words to have a positive effect. He wanted Hephaestion's sleep to be peaceful. His love had had so little rest in weeks and Alexander longed to give that to him since he could not ease Hephaestion's physical pains. It was therefore a knife to his gut every time Hephaestion's sleep was swallowed by dark dreams. He did what he could to gentle the injured man out of them, but for the most part they were unavoidable.

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The hands were all over every bit of him, tugging and clawing at him from every conceivable direction. So many hands that they blocked out all sources of light. All that he saw was darkness. Total and utter. And try as he did to cry out, he could not find his voice. The screams were loud as could be in his mind, but they went no further than that.

"Hephaestion!"

The hands all stilled at Alexander's shout. They continued to hold him immobile, but were no longer a single, undulating entity.

"I am right here, Phae. It is my hand that you feel."

The multitude of hands evaporated into a single hand, lightly cupping his cheek. The blankness was faded as well, consumed by a brightness that rivaled the sun.

"Xander...."

In the blink of an eye the formless light was replaced by a face.

"You got a little more of my name out that time," Alexander murmured, thumb stroking lightly over the top of his cheek.

Steeling himself, he breathed out, "Alexander," in a single breath.

The radiant smile that broke out upon Alexander's face then was certainly worth the exhausting effort it took to say. Alexander's face was so close to his own that it took only a small amount of careful nudging to brush his nose alongside his golden love's. Relaxing for a moment, he allowed his eyes to drift shut, basking in the peace and comfort that shone from Alexander like a beacon.

"Such a beautiful whore."

His eyes shot open at the sound of the voice that was most certainly not Alexander's and he found himself staring into the eyes of a living demon.

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Hephaestion woke with a gasp, his eyes open and darting about without truly seeing. Or so Alexander hoped because when Hephaestion's gaze locked on him he could see only fear in those ever expressive blue eyes.

"Hephaestion?" Alexander said quietly, not wanting to startle him. "Phae?"

His body rigid with fear, Hephaestion ground out, "You will not touch me."

Startled by the venom in the usually tranquil voice, Alexander's hand immediately dropped away from Hephaestion's cheek. A moment later, Hephaestion's eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out in sleep. Or perhaps, instead, simple unconsciousness.

Alexander himself was no so easily calmed.


	8. Part VIII

**Part VIII**

"He has courage in him, I will grant him that. Did not make so much as a peep. Such things can not be said of all of them."

The instant the voice registered in his mind, he struck out with his arm as he twisted his body away from the bearer of the voice. There was a shout, but he could not be sure if it was his own or the blacksmith. A second one was most assuredly his as he tumbled to the ground. His hold on the present wavered as once again lightning flared through his back.

Alexander had not come for him.

It had all been a lie conjured up by his own mind; a torment that he had created for himself. He wavered between unconsciousness and awareness, straining to hear every sound. Yet all he could hear was the hammering of his own heart and his gasping breaths.

"Hephaestion!"

He could feel the brush of quick movements and then a pair of hands upon his shoulders, turning him off of his back. An arm that was not his own was pillowing his head and a blessedly familiar hand cupped his cheek. The heat of that body was so near that he could not resist the temptation of leaning into it. Into Alexander. Eyes still closed he reached out blindly for Alexander; his fingers closing weakly about his forearm.

"Xan," he gasped, forcing the word out as he tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

"I have you," Alexander whispered, lips moving over his cheek. "I have you, Phae. You are safe."

Eyelids fluttering open slowly, he could see only a pair of grey eyes staring back at him.

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Like everyone else in the tent, Cleitus had been startled by Hephaestion's sudden return to consciousness. The boy had been waking up on and off for the past two days and the physician had finally deemed it okay to consult the blacksmith who had placed the collar on Hephaestion about its removal. Given the unpredictable nature of Hephaestion's bouts of consciousness, Alexander had decided to wait until they were certain about the process of the collar's removal before speaking to him about it.

Not that Cleitus truly thought it would have made much difference in Hephaestion's volatile reaction upon waking. Rolling away from the blacksmith, Hephaestion had swung his right arm out and come surprisingly close to hitting him. They had all remained completely still for a moment, too shocked to move, until Hephaestion's pained cry sent Alexander into motion. The rest of them could only watch on in silence as Alexander gathered Hephaestion to him, holding the injured man as tenderly as any babe.

Nodding to Ptolemy, the younger man led the blacksmith from the tent, leaving only Cleitus and Philip alone with the lovers. Philip busied himself with gathering supplies to tend to the reopened wounds on Hephaestion's back that were leaking blood while Cleitus set about righting the cot.

"I should have warned him."

Alexander' voice was little more than a whisper, but Cleitus was close enough to hear it.

Even if you had, I suspect that his reaction would have been the same," Cleitus sought to assure him. "Waking can be disorienting, especially if a man is injured. Now come, let us get Hephaestion back onto the bed so that Philip can tend to him."

It did not surprise him overly much when Alexander shook his head.

"This is the first time I have been able to hold him in nearly two months," the young prince murmured as his fingers moved gently over the injured man's face and hair. "I almost feared to hope that I would ever do so again."

Cleitus found himself unable to look away from the sight. Hephaestion lay half on top of Alexander, his back exposed and his buttocks only partially covered by the thin blanket that was twisted about his legs. He was unconscious, his head pillowed on Alexander's arm and his left hand clutching weakly at the folds of the blonde's chiton. Lying on his back, supporting his wounded lover's weight, Alexander had eyes only for Hephaestion. Even when they had been speaking, Alexander's gaze had never wavered from the sleeping face so close to his own.

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He had survived. Against all probability the Athenian brat had survived. Though, if her spies were to be believed, it was a near thing. In all likelihood, if Alexander had arrived only one day later, Amyntor's boy would have been dead. He was more stubborn than she had given him credit for because Olympias had not thought that he would survive so long.

All was not completely lost yet. Though he had survived the Illyrian mines, Hephaestion Amyntoros was not long for the world.

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There was something digging into the small of his back, but Alexander did not care. Hephaestion was in his arms. Cleitus and Philip had left some time ago, and Alexander had stayed where he was. Philip had assured him that Hephaestion was fine on the ground, so Alexander ignored his own minor discomforts in favour of holding Hephaestion close. Feeling Hephaestion's hand upon his chest and his breath upon his neck was a joy that he had nearly forgotten. It was the first time in nearly two months that he had felt at peace. Hephaestion's health continued to improve and they would be removing the collar the next day. At most it would be another week and then they could return to Pella.

Alexander was not fool enough to believe for one instant that taking Hephaestion back to Pella would be the end of it. In his unconscious moments, Hephaestion responded to him as he always had in the past. It was while he was on the verge of waking that Hephaestion was unpredictable. It was impossible to tell just how he would react at any given moment.

"If it was at all possible I would take everything that happened to you upon myself," Alexander whispered as he smoothed Hephaestion's rumpled hair from his face. "I would suffer it all so that you would not be hurt."

"No."

The word was spoken so quietly that Alexander was not entirely certain he had heard it.

"Hephaestion?"

His eyelids flickered briefly, but did not open. "Do not wish this upon yourself. I knew that one day there would be a price to pay for loving you."

Alexander's eyes widened at the words before the sting of tears forced him to close them. He held Hephaestion to him as tightly as he dared, silently willing the all too true words false. Hephaestion had just confirmed his greatest fear; that it was his love which had condemned him.

"It as not a price you should have had to pay," Alexander moaned, pressing his face into his love's hair. His breath was coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to swallow his tears.

Hephaestion did not say a word, but the hand that had been gripping Alexander's chiton slid up his chest and over his side so that Hephaestion held him in a loose embrace. To be the one comforted when Hephaestion had already suffered so much, Alexander was no longer able to hold back his tears and sobbed opening into Hephaestion's hair.

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He held his own exhaustion at bay, determined to remain conscious, while Alexander fell apart in his arms. Knowing Alexander as he did, this was likely the first time he had allowed himself to give into his emotions. Alexander always held things in too tightly.

Much as he wanted to assure Alexander that he would be fine, he could not make himself speak the words. Time and again the words died on his throat. In truth, the fact that he had never been able to lie to Alexander was what killed them. He could not even accomplish the small, meaningless lies that would never be of any consequence. It would only take a single look for Alexander to wring the truth from him so instead he resorted to silence.

Alexander could not know.

"_Do you think yourself so much above her, whore?"_

_For a brief moment, he stilled in his struggles. The hands clamping to his wrists and legs took advantage, pinning him more securely._

"_Had you but stepped aside as she ordered you could have saved yourself this."_

_The Epriot soldier masquerading as an Illyrian captive thrust his hips forward to illustrate his point and he could not stop the pained cry that was forced past his lips. Several more thrusts followed after, each digging his hips even more painfully into the stone edge of his bunk. He tried to keep silent._

"_Shut him up, Dionedes."_

_Blunt fingers dug into the corners of his jaw, forcing his mouth open._

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It had not been his intention to fall asleep, but he woke immediately when the sound of Hephaestion's pained whimpers began to echo in his ears. Fully alert, Alexander brought a hand up to cup Hephaestion cheek and the whimper became a scream. He tried to hold Hephaestion steady, but was unprepared for the violent outburst that followed. Hephaestion lashed out, a fist slamming into his jaw as he attempted to roll away. As soon as his weight came to rest on his still-sensitive lashes, Hephaestion's back arched and his eyes flashed open. Alexander reached out and tried to turn Hephaestion back onto his side only to have his lover strike out at him again, a wordless scream pouring from his lips.

"Hephaestion!" Alexander cried, reaching out for him once again, undeterred. He managed to catch hold of Hephaestion's wrist and guided the trembling body into his arms. Exhausted from the earlier burst of action, Hephaestion lay still, panting against his chest. "Relax, Phae, I have you. You are safe. I will not let anyone hurt you."

Only when Hephaestion seemed to sink back into oblivion did Alexander relax. He did not know what had set Hephaestion off to such a degree, but it had frightened him almost more than anything else had thus far. Hephaestion's reaction had been explosive.

"Alexander, what happened?"

Alexander could only stare at Ptolemy, unable to describe what had occurred.

"Alexander?"

Shaking his head slightly, Alexander pursed his lips. "I do not know. He awoke screaming...."

Hephaestion moaned weakly, his fingers clutching at Alexander's chiton. His eyelids began to flutter and Alexander nearly flinched at the agony he saw in those blue eyes. What gutted him the most was the fact that only a small part of it was the result of the nightmares. It was a relief, therefore, when Hephaestion leaned into his touch that time instead of shying away.

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It was really quite amusing to see the mighty Hephaestion brought so low. Whimpering and mewling like a babe as he was carried to the blacksmith's workshop on a litter and so weak that he had to be held propped up in order to sit. It was, of course, Alexander himself who supported Hephaestion while the blacksmith went about his work. Hephaestion flinched with every blow of the red-hot metal, his eyes squeezed shut tight. Cried out when a few sparks struck him. The same Hephaestion who had not even made a sound when a surgeon had sewn shut the gash on his leg after Chaeronea.

Even from the distance he stood at the entrance to the shop he could see Hephaestion's trembling and the white-knuckle grip he had on Alexander's forearms. He was too far away, however, to hear the words Alexander whispered into Hephaestion's ear. No doubt insipid vows of love and devotion. Declarations that his love had not dimmed despite the fact that Hephaestion was no longer pure. Where before Hephaestion had had at least some pretence of being a warrior, his sojourn in the mines had only brought his true potential to the fore: a vessel for sex. He had seen few whores in his lifetime that rivaled Hephaestion's beauty—albeit somewhat scarred beauty at present. And while Alexander might be currently filling Hephaestion's head with the notion that it would not matter, he doubted that it would not take much to prove those sentiments false. With time, Alexander would see what they all did; that Hephaestion had been changed.

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Hephaestion had been unconscious for much of the morning, what little strength he had sapped by their trip back to the mine. Alexander had loathed bringing Hephaestion back through its gates, but it had been a necessity if the collar was to be removed. Which it was. Hephaestion had been unconscious at the time, but Alexander had felt relieved to see it eased off Hephaestion's neck.

The blacksmith had meant to simply toss it aside into a pile of scrap metal, but Alexander had promptly taken possession of it and thrown it into the forge. Deep enough into the furnace so that it could not be removed later. Alexander wanted it destroyed.

"I hope that we can return to Pella soon," Alexander murmured as he lightly stroked Hephaestion's hair. "I long to be far from this place, as no doubt you do as well. Perhaps we can even spend some time at Mieza while you are recovering. You always enjoyed it there."

There was no response from Hephaestion, but Alexander had not expected one. He did not begrudge Hephaestion his rest. Not when that rest appeared to be so peaceful. None of his earlier terrors seemed to be visiting him at the moment and Alexander hoped it would continue that way.

Movement at the entrance of the tent caught Alexander's attention. He was genuinely surprised to see both his father and Hephaestion's staring them.

"My boy," Amyntor moaned, eyes so similar to Hephaestion's glassy with tears. "My poor boy."

Philip's eyes were radiating fire. "What has happened here?"


	9. Part IX

**Part IX**

"I did not expect to see the king here," Seleucus said to no one in particular as he glanced towards Alexander's tent.

Across from him, Cleitus sliced a good-sized piece of meat from the boar roasting over their cook fire. "Philip told Amyntor that he would keep Hephaestion safe. The vow would not imply during battle, but Hephaestion was not taken during any battle. Whoever took Hephaestion did so for a reason."

Perdiccas looked up quickly from his own meal. "Surely you do not think someone did this intentionally to Hephaestion?"

"Why not?" Cleitus shrugged and took a bite of his meat, pushing it to the side of his mouth as he continued, "He has Athenian blood in him and the ear of Philip's most likely successor. Anyone with an interest in keeping Athens out of Macedon could want him removed. And now with his Macedonian mother dead he is as much a foreigner as the queen."

Ptolemy snarled, shaking his head. "By that logic Alexander himself will be a foreigner if the king dies before Olympias."

"It is only Alexander's mother that is foreign. For Hephaestion it is the opposite," Seleucus pointed out. "The blood of the father holds far more sway."

Swallowing, Cleitus nodded his head. "For Alexander's sake I hope that is true."

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Amyntor fervently willed away the sight before him. That wreck of a man could not be his beloved son. His strong, intelligent son brought so low by mere vermin. He would have thought the boy dead if not for the subtle way he turned his head into the prince's touch.

"I did not think you would come here," Alexander said, his eyes darting between them. "I had hoped that Hephaestion would have more of a chance to recover before you saw him."

"Who did this to him?" Philip demanded before he had a chance to.

Alexander's gaze immediately turned back to Hephaestion. "The lashes were given to him by the foreman, supposedly for killing a slave. The rest of it… I do not know. Hephaestion has not volunteered the information and I cannot stomach asking him to relive it all."

Slowly, Amyntor began to approach the cot where Hephaestion lay so still. Alexander's touch appeared to soothe him for the moment, but it did not detract from the fact that his son had suffered greatly. And all the while he had cursed the boy for dallying while his mother lay dying. Not even in his most horrific nightmares would he have imaged Hephaestion suffering to such an extent. Even what information the messenger had given him and Philip had not prepared him for the actual sight of his dear boy.

"Phae?" Alexander murmured, leaning in close.

Amyntor was near enough to see that Hephaestion had woken, eyes slitted open. His mother's eyes. Amyntor dropped to his knees at the head of the cot, his fingers sliding into his boy's cruelly shorn hair. And when Hephaestion tilted his head to see him, Amyntor could not stop his tears.

"Hephaestion," Amyntor moaned, blinking heavily to clear his vision. "My poor boy."

Hephaestion stared up at him in disbelief. "Father?" The word sounded rough and half-choked as it was gasped out; as though Hephaestion had screamed a great deal in the recent past.

Amyntor was vaguely aware of Philip ordering Alexander out of the tent, no doubt attempting to gather information Amyntor himself should have been looking for. At the moment, though, all that he could focus on was his son and thanked the gods that he continued to live.

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For all that Alexander resembled a kicked pup when he ordered him from the other boy's side, Philip pushed that away for the moment. Alexander would survive an hour or so away from Hephaestion; time that Amyntor needed with his son. Hephaestion might have been recovering physically, but there was no mistaking the haunted look he had seen in the boy's eyes.

"I have men searching for the Illyrian mercenaries," Philip said straight away. "Once they are found we will know who began this."

"I think Hephaestion knows," Alexander said so quietly that Philip would have thought he imagined the words had he not seen his son's lips move. "I think he knows, but he will not say. Earlier he all but confessed that he was purposely brought here."

The words should have reassured him. For if Hephaestion had been abducted deliberately it meant there was a perpetrator who could be brought to justice which would go a long way in easing all of their minds, Hephaestion's especially. Instead, the words sent a bolt of unease through Philip. Once again his mind strayed to the possibility that it had been Olympias who was behind it all. The woman would not stand to hold second place in their son's affections. And second was where she most assuredly was for nothing would sway Alexander from Hephaestion's side after this.

"Hephaestion has been seriously injured and is still gravely ill," Philip reminded Alexander, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "Likely his thoughts are quite out of sorts so wait a few more days before you heap such burdens upon yourself. Rejoice in the fact that he has survived."

Alexander's earlier expression was replaced by one which radiated fire. "Relieved as I am that Hephaestion lives, I still want to crucify the foreman and raze the entire complex into ashes with the men still inside. I would murder them all."

"And while that might comfort your own guilt, it would not ease Hephaestion any."

He seemed to have struck to the heart of it because Alexander's entire face crumpled. The boy did not give in entirely to his grief, but it was obvious enough upon his features. And for all of his experiences, Philip did not know how to heal such grief. Though they were still young, he could no longer doubt the strength of the love between his son and Amyntor's. That sentimental fool Lysimachus had been right to call them Achilles and Patroclus. Philip could only be grateful that they had not reached the end of their tale.

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By the time he returned to his tent, Hephaestion was asleep once again. Amyntor was seated next to his head, fingers smoothing absently through his hair. Alexander knew that he should give way to Hephaestion's father, but he felt uneasy so far from his love. He was barely five paces away and still it was too far. So instead he took up a position near Hephaestion's hip, placing a hand on his bent elbow and stroked the warm flesh lightly with his thumb. Hephaestion's arm twitched slightly but he did not pull away.

"Hephaestion would not say anything beyond that he was grateful the ordeal had ended," Amyntor said, breaking the silence for the first time. "Has he said anything to you, lad?"

Alexander watched Hephaestion's fingers curl slightly inwards. "No. I know what can be told from his injuries, but nothing beyond that. He refuses to speak when I attempt to mention it. I thought it best not to push the matter, not yet."

"Give the boy time. His mind is likely still at odds with the injuries done to his body," his father suggested as he picked up a half-full flagon of wine. "Once his mind clears he will begin to speak of it. On the 'morrow, however, I will be speaking to the foreman. I am certain I can convince him to supply me with some details."

As his father and Amyntor discussed their plans for the coming days, Alexander began to wonder if he truly did wish to know the details of Hephaestion's captivity. He did not doubt that it had been horrendous—Hephaestion's body bore witness to the atrocities –but unless speaking of it would help ease Hephaestion, Alexander found his determination wavering. He would see each of the villains who had harmed Hephaestion dead, but began to doubt the benefit of knowing their exact crimes. The simple truth was that regardless of the specific acts, in the end Hephaestion had been brought low and would need to spend a long time recovering.

"I need to speak with Cleitus," Philip said some time later, excusing himself.

Alone now with Hephaestion's father, Alexander felt his guilt magnified.

"You could not have foreseen this," Amyntor said just as Alexander opened his mouth to speak. "I saw the way you looked at Hephaestion when you were both in Athens after Chaeronea. You love him. Just as I know that Hephaestion loves you. You would not have knowingly allowed him into danger and so the blame cannot be laid at your feet. It belongs with those who did this to him."

"It still happened because of me. Because I love him," Alexander whispered, barely able to choke the words out.

Amyntor leaned forward and placed a hand under Alexander's chin, forcing him to raise his head. Once he was certain that he held the younger man's attention, he spoke.

"It is because my son loves you that he survived. Hephaestion survived all of this because he knew that you would be there at the end of it. I do not doubt for one moment that he held out so long because of you. And for that you have my gratitude."

To stunned to form a response, Alexander could only gape at the man seated before him. Amyntor meant to absolve him of all guilt. Guilt that Alexander would have gladly borne until the end of his days. He was fairly certain that his days were numbered in accordance with Hephaestion's own. It had seemed a slow death while waiting for news of his lover's fate.

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"She will not be pleased to hear that he has survived."

"It is her own foolishness that has kept him alive. It would have been better just to kill him."

"That may yet come."

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Fingers ghosting over his cheek were what slowly roused him to consciousness. Instantly knowing whose touch it was, he did not fight it, but instead turned into it. And was rewarded with a pair of lips pressed to his temple. He slitted his eyes open and saw a hand resting close to his own. With an extreme force of will, he managed to curl his fingers overtop of them. He could almost feel the warmth from those fingers infusing him with the heat he was so desperately missing.

"The sun shines from within you."

Turning his hand over, Alexander twined their fingers together, squeezing lightly. Alexander ducked his head down to catch sight of his eyes. He tried to close his eyes and hide from that intense gaze only to have Alexander's thumb gently stroke under his left eye, silently pleading for him not to look away. He could never deny Alexander.

"Fire and water temper each other," Alexander murmured, continuing to stroke his cheek. "If I have the light of the sun within me then you possess the strength of the oceans. I see it there whenever I look into your eyes."

His vision blurred and he desperately began to shake his head, denying Alexander's words. He was weak. Alexander thought him strong because he had lived through the mines. His body continued to function, but soon enough he would finally be able to rest. He would return to Athens with his father and it would be simple enough to find and end there. Alexander would be in Pella, too far away to stop him.

He could only hope that one day Alexander would understand and forgive him.

"Did you want to try and sit up?" Alexander asked a few minutes later when he did not respond. "Nearchus brought some food in just before you woke and you look as though you could do with a good meal. It will help strengthen you." The fingers that had been caressing his face moved into his hair and Alexander grinned softly. "There is even chicken, brought especially for you."

Though he did not think that he could stomach any food just then, he allowed Alexander to help prop him up. He even managed a few bites of food which surprised him. Alexander feeding him the strips of chicken himself was a definite incentive. He could almost pretend that his entire body did not continue to throb dully, the lashes on his back radiating fire if he moved incorrectly. He tried to hide those sudden flashes of pain from Alexander, but could not contain a sudden indrawn gasp after one.

"You are exhausted and I am only forcing you awake longer," Alexander said quietly, setting the plate aside. "Come, lie down."

He was confused when Alexander laid down on the narrow camp cot, uncertain of what his intentions were. Then Alexander was guiding him into his arms, spreading his legs so that he could lie comfortably atop him. His body instinctively molded itself to Alexander's, relishing the warmth he was able to soak up from his love. Alexander's hands fumbled for a few moments before lighting upon his sides, fingers stroking gently.

"I want to be gone from here," he whispered, pressing his face into Alexander's chest and exhaling a shuddering breath. "I want to be far from this place."

"Soon," Alexander said into his hair. "Philip insists on a few more days before you travel."

"And if I can never leave it?"

Alexander did not respond immediately, no doubt aware of what he was truly speaking of. Instead, Alexander brought a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and coaxing him into raising his head. Even then he seemed to stumble slightly, searching for the words.

"You are Hephaestion," he said at last, lifting his head so that their forehead connected. "Regardless of whatever happened, you are still Hephaestion. They cannot destroy that or take it from you."

He opened his mouth to deny the words, but Alexander stopped them by pressing their mouths together. It was not much more than a touching of their lips, but he could not stop his hands clutching at Alexander's upper arms. His breath mingled with Alexander's and for all that he tried, he could not pull away.

"You are still Hephaestion," Alexander whispered against his lips.

For a moment he could almost believe the words.


	10. Part X

**Part X**

Alexander woke slowly and, for the first time in a long while, actually felt rested upon doing so. Hephaestion had truly seemed better the night before. He had been sitting up, eating and from what Alexander could tell had slept peacefully through the night. Or at least most of it. The camp was still quiet which meant that it was not yet dawn. He was hopeful, though, that it meant Hephaestion was on the mend.

Raising himself up onto one elbow, Alexander peered over the edge of Hephaestion's cot and felt the breath stolen from his body when he saw it empty. For several endless seconds he could not move. His body was utterly frozen. Then he was scrambling; tripping himself in his bedroll and nearly upending the cot in his haste to get up. His mind had one single thought which was to find Hephaestion.

And find him he did as soon as he rushed out of the tent.

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Had it not been for the fear he could clearly see etched on Alexander's features in the pre-dawn light, Cleitus would have been tempted to chuckle at the prince's less than elegant exit from his tent. That fear did not fade from Alexander's eyes until he dropped to his knees before a dozing Hephaestion and placed a hand to his chest to feel the beating of his heart.

"Why did he not wake me?" Alexander demanded, his voice containing quite a bit of fire despite its hushed tone.

Cleitus shrugged one shoulder, the other supporting Hephaestion's head. "I do not know. He stumbled out less than an hour ago, naked as a babe, and refused to go back in. I got my chlamys around him and led him here so that the fire would keep him warm."

The fear left Alexander's eyes as he gently stroked Hephaestion's cheek, staring at him in wonder. "What is going on in that head of yours? Why will you not let me in?"

Hephaestion did not wake completely, but mumbled something unintelligible and leaned into Alexander's touch. Nor did he wake as Alexander took possession of him, curling up with his head pillowed on the smaller man's thigh. Even in sleep he knew when Alexander was near; knew also that it meant he was safe.

"I suspect that even now he is trying to protect you," Cleitus said quietly so as not to wake the slumbering man. "Part of it could also be pride. There is so very little that he can control at the moment and is likely hoarding all that he can. If he does not speak of it, it is his choice and no one else's."

Alexander's eyes did not stray from Hephaestion's relaxed features. "I do not know what to do."

"Nor can I tell you what to do," Cleitus sighed, leaning in closer to the fire. Without his cloak, the early morning chill seeped right through his thin chiton. "Though it will not be intentional, Hephaestion is the one who will dictate things between the two of you. You will have to be careful with him. Moreso than I suspect you have ever been."

From Alexander's expression he could tell that they were not the words he wanted to hear. Floundering about blindly was not a method Alexander would care for. And Cleitus knew that he could not blame him. To see the one that he loved most brought so low could only be agony for Alexander. There was no balm to ease Hephaestion's suffering, they both knew it.

"I should be able to avenge him. He should not have to worry whether or not the men who did this to him are still alive. They should have been dead the same hour we arrived here," Alexander insisted, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. "I failed him."

The sentence had not even died in the air before Cleitus was shaking his head. He grabbed hold of Alexander's chin, forcing him to raise his head. "Banish the thought from that sleep-deprived mind of yours. You did not fail Hephaestion. He would be dead by now if it had been anyone other than you searching for him. No one else would have recognized his horse and it was that medallion of yours that completed the path here. You saved him."

Even as he spoke he could see the denial in Alexander's eyes.

"I placed him in danger," Alexander insisted, eyelids sliding shut as though he would hide himself away. "I loved him too much."

Cleitus could only shake his head in disbelief. "There is no such thing, lad. The sooner you realize that the better you will both be."

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"... realize that the better you both will be."

While he was not entirely certain of the last part of Cleitus' statement, he knew that what came before had been the absolute truth. Selfish as he knew it made him, he craved Alexander's love like nothing else. He held onto every scrap of it, wrapping it tightly about himself and refusing to relinquish it.

He would sooner part with his own life even though he knew doing so meant that he would lose that love in the process. Alexander did not love weak men and that was the only thing he was capable of being any longer. Whatever there was about him that Alexander had once loved it was now leeched away entirely, leaving him utterly hollow. Better that Alexander not have to suffer through that decline and simply remember the love that had once been. Alexander could never love such a ravaged thing.

So he would simply fade away.

"_If I never have to move again I will be utterly content."_

_Hephaestion chuckled, leaning forward to press his cheek to Alexander's rumpled hair. "That is because you are not the one with a rock for your pillow."_

"_You chose the location, not me."_

"_And you were the one who insisted that I be ridden like that demon mount of yours," Hephaestion reminded him, lowering his head so that he could bite the tip of Alexander's ear._

"_Bestiality is not something I aspire to," Alexander murmured as he rolled off of Hephaestion's lap._

_Both of them moaned as they slipped apart._

"_I should hope not," Hephaestion yawned as he crawled after his love, drawing him into his arms as he settled down upon the grass. "Though I would be much obliged if you could get him to stop trying to bite my fingers off when I give him an apple."_

Fingers grazed lightly over his throat, a caress—

–_followed by a sharp bite at the juncture of his shoulder. He tried to twist away from the teeth, but hands and hips held him in place._

"_Do you regret it now?" a panting voice slithered in his ear. "All you had to do was return to Athens and this would have never happened."_

_Being shoved repeatedly against the hard edge of the bunk, it took a minute for him to gather enough breath to gasp out, "I will never regret it. Never."_

"_Then you are a fool."_

"Hush, love. I have you. You are safe." The voice glided over his skin, soothing and gentle. "You are safe with me. I swear it."

He willed the trembling to stop, clinging desperately to Alexander's knee. He could not give in. Not yet. The time for being weak would come later.

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"I will never regret it. I will never regret it. I will never regret it...."

Alexander doubted that Hephaestion was even aware that he was mumbling the same phrase over and again. His eyes were open, but there was a faraway look to them, his mind still trapped in whatever nightmare had woken him. Alexander did his best to shield Hephaestion, not wanting to expose his vulnerability to prying eyes.

Though it never occurred in his hearing, Alexander knew full well that there were those who mocked Hephaestion and what he had gone through. Ones who would exploit any weakness to their own advantages. Alexander felt nothing but contempt for such individuals. Hephaestion's body may have been weak at the moment, but his spirit was strong. Hephaestion was strong and he would recover and prove them all wrong.

Slowly, Hephaestion's breathing even out, the mumblings fading, and his love slept once again.

"May the gods guard your dreams," Alexander whispered, straightening as he became aware of footsteps approaching them. He inclined his head in deference to the man now crouching before them. "General Amyntor."

"Is he well? What happened?" Amyntor asked in a rush, his eyes scanning over every inch of Hephaestion's body. "How did he get out here?"

"He has not added to his injuries," Alexander was quick to assure the older man.

Amyntor gently lifted Hephaestion's left hand, enfolding it carefully within his own. "I could not help when I saw him lying here."

"Nor could I when I awoke to find him gone," Alexander admitted, a shuddering breath causing him to shake momentarily. "Cleitus tells me that he got out of the tent on his own power. Frightened as I was, it filled me with joy to hear it. His strength is returning. We should be able to return home soon."

Amyntor was silent a moment. "To which home do you refer?"

"Pella, of course," Alexander responded immediately, glancing up at his father's general. "But also to Mieza. Mieza is peaceful and quiet and Hephaestion always loved it there. He can recover there without the prying eyes of the court watching over him."

"He could do the same in Athens."

Alexander's eyes widened and he wrapped his arms protectively around Hephaestion. "Not to Athens. It is too far and it is no longer his home. Pella is his home now. He has created a life for himself there; please do not take him from it."

"You speak as though he would never return," Amyntor said, stroking a hand over his jaw.

An icy hand ghosted across Alexander's shoulders causing him to tremble once again. "I can make no claims on knowing future events," he said at last, his eyes tracking the fluttering of Hephaestion's eyelids. "I only know that there is something clamoring within me to keep Hephaestion from Athens. As though I will never see him again if he goes."

"I will not be able to keep him long in Athens," Amyntor sought to assure him even as he forced a smile. "Hephaestion will not be kept long from your side."

Irrational as they were, Alexander could not banish those creeping doubts. Lifting his head, he met Amyntor's gaze steadily. "Do not take Hephaestion from me. I could not survive his loss a second time."

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The sun was barely above the treetops when the foreman was brought before Philip. The fear that had cowed the man when he stood before the prince reduced him to a cowering mass at the sight of the king. Even without the title, the sight of Philip of Macedon could be a frightening thing. Battle scarred and ferocious, he was a being fit to haunt the darker dreams of even the strongest men.

Yet while Philip radiated power and malice, at his side, Alexander burned with an intensity to rival the sun. He did not speak a word while his father interrogated the stammering foreman, but there was no ignoring the force of his mere presence.

"I did not realize until after!" Harmolaus cried, tears and snot dribbling down his face.

"Did not realize what?" Philip demanded, circling the foreman who trembled before him on his knees.

"That he was not a slave. There was no reason for the Epirot to be in with the rest."

Standing at Alexander's side, Ptolemy did not miss the sudden indrawn breath or the way that his muscles tensed. Philip as well appeared momentarily disconcerted by the revelation.

"If you wish to see this day reach its conclusion you will bring this man to me." Philip ordered, coming to a stop directly in front of the foreman. "As well as any accomplices he might have had."

Though the rest of them began to disperse as the foreman rushed back towards the mine, Alexander remained rooted to the spot, his eyes unseeing. Philip stopped next to him briefly, but continued on just as quickly, unable to find any words to give his son comfort then.

"She would not do this to me."

The words were barely more than a whisper, but Ptolemy heard them as clear as though Alexander had shouted them.

"She would not try to take him from me."

In that moment, Ptolemy wished for all the world that it was true. Yet deep down he too feared that the queen was involved. When he was a page, Ptolemy had actually feared the woman who slithered about the passages like a viper. She was not a woman to be crossed for her vengeance was as quick and lethal as one of her reptiles.

It did not take any stretch of the imagination to lay some of the guilt at Olympias' feet.

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"We should get rid of him now. Alexander is distracted with the foreman and Hephaestion is unguarded. We will not having a better opportunity."


	11. Part XI

**Part XI**

"ALEXANDER!"

The instant the he heard Seleucus' shout, Alexander was sprinting back in the direction of the camp. There was no mistaking the panic in the other man's voice. He met up with Seleucus halfway and was directed towards his own tent with a frantic, "Hurry." Hephaestion was dying, Alexander was fairly certain. Somehow he had injured himself in his wanderings the night before and now he was dying. There was no other explanation for it because Hephaestion had been under guard.

There was a crowd gathered around his tent when he arrived. A crowd whose faces were etched in panic and fear. Not seeing his father, Amyntor or Cleitus, Alexander approached cautiously. He trembled and shook as he reached for the flap of the hide tent, his fingers gliding over the embroidered edges before latching on. Very slowly, Alexander pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the tent.

Less than three paces in was a body lying with its throat slashed almost all of the way through.

Yet even through all of the blood he could see that it was not Hephaestion and his knees nearly sagged with relief. The dead boy was a few years younger than them and had hair far too dark to be Hephaestion.

"Alexander, here."

The summons was spoken in a whisper by his father and what Alexander saw stole the breath from his body. Hephaestion, crouched in a far corner of the tent. He was blood-spattered, his left arm wrapped about his drawn up knees and right arm resting across the top of them. In his right hand he held a short knife gripped tightly and held out before him. There was no recognition in Hephaestion's eyes.

"Hephaestion?" Alexander murmured as he slowly crossed towards his love.

Hephaestion's entire body stiffened and he raised the knife slightly. "You will not touch me." The voice that spoke those words was that of a corpse, utterly devoid of any sign of life. "You will not use me."

"Please, Phae, give me—"

Alexander's words died in his throat as Hephaestion's blade flashed towards his own neck, the tip of it piercing his flesh as he began to drag it across. In an instant, Alexander was at Hephaestion's side, wrestling with the injured man for control of the weapon. He was able to get the knife away from Hephaestion's throat without inflicting any further damage, but Hephaestion did not easily relinquish the weapon. Hephaestion was all but insensible, screaming and spitting and fighting with a tenacity that Alexander had not expected.

In the end it took him, Philip and Amyntor to restrain Hephaestion long enough for the physician to press a drugged cloth over Hephaestion's mouth and nose that made him sleep. Alexander did not realize that he was shaking until his father placed a hand on his arm to turn him away from Hephaestion. He instinctively reached for his lover and cried out at the shock of pain when his palm clamped down over Hephaestion's wrist.

"Easy, lad, you cut yourself trying to get the knife from him," his father murmured as he dumped a cupful of water over Alexander's injured hand. Alexander winced, his fingers jerking inwards. "The cut is not deep, but Philip will make the final prognosis on whether it will be stitched or not."

Alexander gulped in several lungfuls of air before he managed to choke out a quiet, "What happened?"

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"What happened?"

Philip wished that there was an answer he could give to his son. But he had none at the moment. All that Philip knew was what he had seen with his own two eyes and that was the dead boy on the ground and Hephaestion's irrational state. How either came to be that way he did not know, nor would he until Hephaestion became more aware of himself. If he had not already lost himself completely.

"Father?"

With a gruff sigh, Philip shook his head. "I do not know. There was a scream and by the time we arrived it was finished."

"Why was no one guarding him?"

"That was one of his guards," Philip said, nodding towards the corpse of the dead page. One of his own pages. There were others out looking for the second, but he did not hold out much hope of him being found alive.

Even before Philip finished tying the bandage around his cut hand, Alexander was already sliding towards Hephaestion. The other boy was a bloody mess, only some of which was his own. Yet it was not the blood that worried Philip the most. It was Hephaestion's mind. The extended abuse had obviously been far more damaging than any of them had thought. Much more damaging than his physical injuries.

The instant that Philip released his hand Alexander was crawling one-handed across the short distance to Hephaestion. Philip did not think a chasm appearing between them would keep Alexander from Hephaestion then.

"Phae," Alexander moaned, winding his fingers through the other boy's. "Gods, Phae, what has happened to you?"

Philip doubted very much that Alexander was aware of anyone outside of Hephaestion at that moment. He was leaning over the unconscious youth, fingers ghosting through the shorn hair and staring at his face with such intensity that Philip thought he expected to decipher the course of events from Hephaestion's features alone. Given the relationship the two boys shared, it was not entirely improbable.

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Hephaestion lay as still as death. His rest was unnatural; drugged. However, his state of mind when he had been conscious was far more frightening than his enforced sleep. At least asleep there was a chance for him to recover from his attempt to take his own life. He had hoped that it would not come to such things, but sadly his only ability lay in healing bodies, not the mind. Such things would be left up to others. Philip could not help but wonder whether an eighteen year old boy was enough for such a challenge.

Thankfully, whatever strength Hephaestion had possessed had been expended on his assailant and he had not injured himself severely. The blood loss was minimal and Philip hoped that it would not hinder his physical recovery much. The boy had certainly displayed his strength and determination over the past month which gave Philip reason enough to hope.

"Will he be all right?"

It took Philip a moment to figure out just who had spoken because he could not recall ever hearing Alexander sound so uncertain. He had cared for the boy his entire life, been present for his birth, yet even the squalling infant protesting his abrupt entry into the world had sounded far more sure of himself than Alexander did right then. Philip had never before realized just how much of Alexander was wrapped up in Hephaestion. Nor had he ever believed that it was possible for two individual beings to be so intimately connected. He now could not help but fear what would happen if one lost the other.

"Physically, he will recover."

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Hephaestion had nearly been stolen from him once again. Never once had Alexander even contemplated that he could loose Hephaestion to himself. Hephaestion had always been so strong. He could overcome anything. He was the one that Alexander had always counted on to be strong for him. Alexander had never thought that Hephaestion could be broken in such a way.

"Can we take him home soon?" Alexander asked, forcing his eyes away from Hephaestion. "I want to gone from Illyria."

Philip balled up a bloody rag and set it aside. "Another two days and even then I would prefer him to travel by litter. He is too weak for horseback."

Despite himself, Alexander let out a snort of mirthless laughter. "He just killed a man. I would hardly consider Hephaestion weak."

"A momentary burst of strength only."

As much as he wanted to deny the words, Alexander could not. Hephaestion looked so vulnerable then, so weak. That was not something he had ever thought to equate with Hephaestion. His lover was strong. He always had been. That calm, inner strength was one of the things that had drawn him to Hephaestion when they were young. Even when they were children, Hephaestion had been so sure of himself and his place in the world; something that Alexander had envied him for. That was all gone now and Alexander wished that he knew how to give it back to him.

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"I want to take Hephaestion straight to Mieza."

Even though it should not have, Alexander's words still caught him completely off guard. Amyntor had already mentally been going over a list of things that he would need to arrange in order to comfortably transport his son back to Athens when the boy had spoken. After what they had learned from the foreman his only concern was getting Hephaestion as far away from Macedon and its Epirot queen as possible. He had cousins that lived in Argos; Hephaestion would be safe there.

"Hephaestion is not going to Mieza," Amyntor informed the prince. "He will return with me to Athens where I can keep him safe."

"I can protect Hephaestion," the boy insisted, straightening his back defiantly. "I can keep him safe."

Amyntor allowed his expression to soften a bit in the face of Alexander's certainty. "I have no doubt that you possess the will to do so, but the fact that affairs have reached such a state proves otherwise. Hephaestion was taken right out from under your very nose and it was a month before you knew to do something about it."

"I knew from the very start," Alexander insisted, grey eyes hard as forged metal. "I knew only I could not prove it so I had no choice but to wait."

"That does not change the fact that my son is not safe in Macedon."

There was no mistaking the protective stance that Alexander took over Hephaestion then; a lion standing guard over its mate. It would be next to impossible to separate him from Hephaestion except by force. Not that Amyntor had any intention of separating them; he simply would not allow his son to remain in Macedon. Not while the Epirot witch remained.

"Please do not take him from me," Alexander pleaded with him. "Do not separate us again."

"I do not intend to separate you. I only mean to keep my son safe."

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Alexander understood completely the reasons behind Amyntor's decisions for he felt much the same. He wanted Hephaestion to be safe, they both did, only Alexander did not want his love to be taken away from him. Not now that he knew that Hephaestion would still be in danger even if he left Macedon. There was nowhere Hephaestion could go to escape himself.

"Take his shoulders so that we can place him back on the bed."

It was a moment before Alexander realized that the physician's words were directed at him. That Hephaestion was still lying on the ground where he had fallen, the knife resting near his out-stretched hand. A knife slathered with Hephaestion's blood. A hand on his shoulder brought Alexander out of his musing and back to the present. Back to Hephaestion who looked as though he was hovering on the borderlines of life and death.

"I have him," Alexander murmured when he saw Cleitus reaching for Hephaestion's legs. "I do not need help."

Gathering Hephaestion up in his arms, Alexander struggled to his feet. He wavered momentarily, a hand on the small of his back steadying him. It was only a few steps to the cot and he was reluctant to set Hephaestion down. The trembling in his arms forced him to release his love. Alexander was very careful as he set Hephaestion down, not wanting to injure him further.

At that moment, more than anything, Alexander wanted to spirit Hephaestion away on Bucephalas. He wanted to ride as fast and as far as he could to a place where he and Hephaestion could live out their lives in peace. Unfortunately, Alexander did not believe that such a place existed.

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His limbs felt as though they were being weighed down; his head equally heavy. The amount of effort that it took to coax his fingers into moving was almost more than he wanted to expend. It was almost as though he were underwater, his senses no longer quite so alert as they had once been. Even so, there was no mistaking the presence at his side.

"Hephaestion?"

Alexander was with him. He had come back.

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There was still no sign of the second page, but his presence was not necessary to determine what had happened in the tent. The pages had meant to kill Hephaestion and had been unprepared for their victim to fight back. Alexander himself would not have thought Hephaestion capable of the brutality of the page's death when he had gone with his father to meet with the foreman. Hephaestion had barely been able to make it out of the tent under his own power that morning and in the afternoon he had killed someone. Surely the gods had taken pity of him and given him the power to defend himself because Alexander could think of no other explanation.

"Tell me that my mother is not behind this. Tell me that she did not try to kill Hephaestion."

It was a moment before he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I cannot.... Now come, the foreman has brought the soldier."

"I will not leave Hephaestion again," Alexander insisted, shaking his head. "I will not risk his life."

"Cleitus and Ptolemy have volunteered to stay with him. He will be safe."

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Alexander reluctantly turned his gaze away from Hephaestion and towards his father. "I cannot leave him, father. Please do not ask me to."

"I am not asking you to. I am telling you to," Philip said, his kindly expression doing nothing to mask the seriousness of his words. "You are a prince, Alexander, descended of Heracles himself. It is not always possible for you to do as you desire. There are times that what you desire will be in direct conflict with what is required of you. This is one of those times. Now come. Do your duty to Hephaestion and confront his attacker while he is unable to."

Reluctant as he was to leave Hephaestion, Alexander knew that he must. He should be there to face the man who had brutalized Hephaestion. He should be the one to avenge his love. Pressing a kiss to Hephaestion's forehead, Alexander rose slowly to his feet and followed his father from the tent. As he stepped into the fading afternoon light, Cleitus squeezed his forearm before moving past him and into the tent. Cleitus would protect Hephaestion. He had to. Alexander did not think he could stomach another misfortune befalling Hephaestion.

Alexander did not say a word as they made their way towards the mines. He could see the foreman, as well as the soldier in question who was surrounded by guards. The soldier who had raped and tormented Hephaestion for a month. He had systematically tried to destroy Hephaestion, and quite possibly on Olympias' orders. His own mother. She had not been content with merely killing Hephaestion, she had tortured him. Played with him like one of the rats she fed to her snakes. He could do nothing about his mother's involvement then, but he could still avenge Hephaestion.

Despite the fact that he was chained and beaten, the Epirot soldier did not show the least bit of concern for his situation. The man was smug, confident, and smile directly at Alexander as he approached.

"You vile, despicable...." Alexander snarled as he stalked ahead of his father.

"Alexander!"

He still had never beat Hephaestion in wrestling, but Alexander easily slithered away from the hands grasping at him. Trying to hold him back; to stop him from avenging his beloved. And the soldier was laughing, smirking as he watched Alexander's approach. Gloating over what he had done to Hephaestion. He felt no remorse whatsoever and Alexander did not doubt would have cared when he had killed Hephaestion.

"Alexander!"

"Monster!"

Alexander was close enough that no one could stop him from stabbing his knife into the soldier's chest. Again and again until that smile was no longer on his face. Until that smirk slid from his features and he slumped to the ground.

"You will never touch him again," Alexander snarled, the knife tumbling from his fingers. "Never."

Turning on his heel, he strode away from the mine and back towards the camp. Back to Hephaestion who was safer now than he had been an hour before. Though still not as safe as Alexander could make him.

"Alexander!"


	12. Part XII

**Part XII**

He did not feel attached to his own body. Everything was far too heavy, even the sensation in his limbs. It was as though there was a barrier between himself and the waking world. He was almost tempted to remain in that half-aware state. If he stayed long enough he might not even feel it when his body finally gave out. Certainly there was only so much trauma a body could withstand before it ceased functioning. In the end nature's own course could very well save him the trouble of brining about his own demise.

"... entirely sure what happened. I saw him and it was as though my mind was no longer a part of my body. All I knew was that I wanted him to die. So I killed him."

"And now we do not know who gave him his orders."

"The foreman said there was at least one accomplice. We can question him."

"Amyntor and I will question him. You will stay out of it."

"Father, I have every right—"

"You cannot be trusted with this. You are too close to be objective and too young to know when to hold yourself in check."

"I will not apologize for loving him."

"Nor would I expect you to."

The hitch that he heard in Alexander's voice forced him momentarily through the fog. "Xan?"

Warmth suffused him almost immediately as Alexander's hands camp up to hold his face. Lips were ghosting over his forehead and cheeks too. He could feel Alexander's lips moving, but not hear the words that he spoke. And even though it took more effort than he thought it would, he lifted his right arm and draped it over Alexander's shoulders, the limb's own weight pulling Alexander closer to him. He wanted to disappear inside of Alexander.

"I do not know what to do," Alexander moaned, the words all but torn from his chest. Alexander's forehead rested against his, holding his gaze. "Tell me what to do so I can take this pain from you."

"_Quickly. While he is still asleep."_

"_Does it even matter if he is awake or not? He is as threatening as a newborn kitten."_

"_Pausanias says that he was up and about this morning."_

"_Then we kill him quick."_

"Hephaestion!"

His entire body stiffened at the sound of his name and he was gasping as he stared up at Alexander. "Are they dead?" he finally managed to gasp out.

Alexander looked very grim, but nodded his head. "One is. We have not yet found the other."

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Achilles himself could have appeared in the tent then and Philip did not think that either Alexander or Hephaestion would have paid him any heed. The boys most certainly did not seem to note the presence of either himself or Amyntor. Philip did not begrudge them it either because, for the moment, Hephaestion was calm. So was Alexander for that matter. He had truly not expected it when Alexander had killed the Epirot. None of them had which was why they had been unable to prevent it. It was almost as though Alexander had been possessed by the gods when he had killed the slave, his movements determined and lightning quick.

"How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?" Amyntor asked his son, drawing the boys' attention away from each other.

Hephaestion shook his head lightly, his eyes sliding shut. "No pain. I just feel... numb."

"No worries, lad," Amyntor murmured, his smile tight; forced. "That will fade soon enough. Just so long as you are well."

Try as he might, Philip could not stop his gaze from wandering to Hephaestion's bandaged throat. There was a small amount of blood seeping through, evidence of the boy's earlier attempt on his own life. It was something that none of them had been expecting and only made things more difficult. Keeping Alexander in Macedon while Hephaestion went to Athens to recover would have been difficult enough when the threats to the older youth were in Macedon. Now that the danger would be following Hephaestion to Athens, Philip was fairly certain that he would have to physically restrain Alexander to keep him in Pella.

If he were truly honest, though, Philip would admit that it would only make things worse to separate Alexander and Hephaestion. However, those were his thoughts as a father. As a king, he had to be strict and that meant Alexander had to stay in Macedon.

Watching the way his son and Hephaestion clung to each other, Philip knew that it would be a challenge separating them.

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Strange as it was to see Hephaestion acting so passive then, Alexander was simply glad to see him awake. He knew that the enforced sleep had been necessary to keep Hephaestion from injuring himself further, but it had still been frightening. Were it not for the slight rise and fall of his chest he had looked dead. Alexander knew that he would never been comfortable seeing Hephaestion lying so still while he slept.

However, relieved as he was to see his beloved friend awake, he could not dispel the image of what had happened earlier that day from his mind. They had been forced to move his tent because the ground was stained with the blood of Arybbas, one of his father's pages. Eventually Alexander knew that Hephaestion would need to be questioned about what had happened, but he found himself reluctant to do so.

Hephaestion's brows furrowed suddenly as he raised a hand to his bandaged throat. "I do not remember either getting more than a few punches in. Did something happen after?"

Alexander opened his mouth, prepared to mask what had truly happened as an accident. His lips were forming the words, but in the end he drew them back.

"You believed that you were still under attack and, rather than fall victim, you attempted to take your own life," Alexander said quietly, unable to meet Hephaestion's eyes.

The corners of Hephaestion's lips turned down into a noticeable frown. "Are you certain?"

"I saw it," Alexander whispered, forcing the words past his lips. "I was reaching for you, but you thought I was one of them and held the knife to your own throat."

Hephaestion began to tremble ever so slightly and he shook his head. Alexander's gaze immediately flew to Hephaestion's eyes only to find the lids squeezed shut tightly. His lips were moving frantically, repeating the same phrase over and again.

"I was not supposed to happen yet.... It was not supposed to happen yet...."

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Alexander would never let him go now. He had allowed himself to be weak for a moment and Alexander had seen it. That was never supposed to happen. Alexander was never supposed to have known. Now it would be impossible for him to disappear quietly.

"Hush now, lad. Get some rest," his father murmured, placing a hand upon his head. "Some honest sleep will do you a world of good."

Though he could not see his father's face, there was no mistaking the disappointment in his voice. His father had seen it as well and knew that he was weak. There would be no hiding it from anyone. They all knew his weakness now and would watch him more closely. It would have been better if Alexander had not stopped him earlier.

"Please, Phae, do not slip back into that dark place."

Before he could stop it, he found himself looking into Alexander's all too expressive eyes. Eyes that were normally the color of polished steel were instead fading into a weeping storm cloud. The lightning they concealed was not directed at him. The raindrops, however, were.

"Do not go where I cannot follow you."

He could hear the almost inaudible hitch in Alexander's breathing when he squeezed his eyes shut tight. It was only momentary. He opened them again once he was able to swallow his own tears and stretched his fingers towards Alexander's. His hand was immediately covered by his love's, their fingers twisting together.

Try as he might, he could not find the words to reassure Alexander's completely.

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"_You will turn into a fish if you stay in there any longer."_

_There was a splash and then, "Would you still love me if I were a fish?"_

_Groaning, he let his head drop back down to the ground. "You sound as insipid as one of Ptolemy's girls when you say things like that. In any event, if you were a fish I would cook you for dinner and likely end up with indigestion for my troubles."_

"_You, my love, are an absolute wretch."_

"_You are the one who insisted upon asking such a lovesick question, beloved."_

_Water sloshed noisily for a moment before the light of the sun no longer seemed quite so bright. When he blinked his eyes open he found that he did not miss the sun. His love was a far more glorious sight standing naked between his legs, water glistening off his body. He may not have become a fish, but there was certainly something otherworldly about him._

"_If I did not know otherwise, I would think you had been birthed from the earth herself. I have never seen a sight to rival this," his lover said as he knelt down, nudging lax thighs open wider with his knees so that he could crawl closer._

"_You have stolen the thoughts from my mind," Hephaestion murmured, reaching up to cup Alexander's cheek in his palm._

_Alexander grinned broadly, leaning into his touch. "Then it is fitting that we have found one another."_

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Drifting from his thoughts as Hephaestion's fingers twitched sleepily about his own, Alexander lifted his free hand to smooth through the sleeping man's hair, gentling him back into more peaceful dreams. It was strange to think that such carefree times had occurred only days before Hephaestion's intended departure for Athens. Less then two months ago Hephaestion had been so utterly relaxed and at peace. Alexander feared that Hephaestion would never regain that part of himself.

"It will take time, but if you have the patience and strength you will help Hephaestion recover that lost part of himself."

Alexander startled slightly at Cleitus' words, not having heard him enter.

"You are exhausted and your thoughts are clearly visible on your face," Cleitus said in response to the question Alexander had not even thought to ask yet. "Rest, Alexander. There are others to watch over Hephaestion's slumber."

Still, Alexander shook his head resolutely. "I cannot. I fear that he will be taken from me if I am not here. General Amyntor would keep him from me permanently. He believes that I am a danger to Hephaestion. He knows that I cannot follow them to Athens so he will steal Hephaestion away during the night while I am unaware and cannot stop him."

Cleitus crouched down before him and grabbed hold of his face with both hands. "You need to sleep, lad. Your thoughts are becoming twisted and confused and you will be of no help to either yourself or Hephaestion in this state. Allow yourself a few hours to rest. You have my word that Hephaestion will still be here when you wake."

Even though he was still reluctant, Alexander allowed Cleitus to coax him onto the bedroll that had been set up next to Hephaestion's cot. Close enough that he could hear the regular intervals of his lover's breathing and the soft rusting of cloth as he moved.

Despite himself, almost immediately Alexander felt himself start to drift off. He blinked his eyes slowly and deliberately, hoping to fend off the drowsiness. "Do you truly believe that Hephaestion will recover? In more than just a physical sense."

Cleitus pursed his lips, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I wish that I could give you an answer, lad. I really do. I do, however, know that Hephaestion is strong. He did not survive all of this just to slip away now that he has been found."

"But today—"

"Today you saw a man who had been on the brink of death for more than a month come near to the end of his endurance. And as strong as Hephaestion is, he is still human. Still mortal. He will have moments of weakness; all men do."

Alexander was silent for a time, his eyes locked on the tips of Hephaestion's fingers which were visible over the edge of the cot. "I feel that I should know all of this already."

"You do. And were it anyone but Hephaestion lying here you would not question yourself," Cleitus reminded him, nudging him gently with his foot. "I may not have studied under Aristotle, but I have been around men enough to understand some things. If it is within his power, Hephaestion will not fail you."

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Much as he would have liked to agree with Cleitus' words, he could not. He already had failed Alexander, even if his love would not yet admit to it. He was not worthy to be the Patroclus to Alexander's Achilles. Patroclus had been strong; he had fought Hector until there was no more breath in his body. Patroclus had been worthy enough to stand beside Achilles in Elysium after their deaths.

That would never be his fate.

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"_You and that brute of yours are obscuring my light."_

_Alexander chuckled and Hephaestion could hear as he slid from Bucephalas' back to the ground. "I cannot understand for the life of me why the two of you insist on antagonizing one another."_

_Lowering his scroll, Hephaestion craned his neck back so that he could see both Alexander and Bucephalas. "We have an understanding. Do we not, brute?"_

_Bucephalas snorted and stomped his hoof a few times._

"_See," Hephaestion smirked, arching an eyebrow in Alexander's direction_

_Alexander rolled his eyes, dropping down next to him on the grassy slope. "What are you doing all the way out here? It took me ages to find you."_

"_I needed some time away from Cassander and Philotas before I did something that would have me sent back to Athens," Hephaestion sighed, relinquishing the scroll when Alexander tugged lightly on the parchment._

_Glancing briefly at the scroll, Alexander grinned at its contents before setting it aside. "Why did you not come to find me? I would have gladly joined you in your afternoon exile."_

"_You were with your mother. I know better than to interrupt those meetings," Hephaestion said, pulling lightly on the edge of Alexander's chiton. "Now either lie down or come closer because it is straining my neck to keep looking up at you."_

_Alexander laughed outright, but slid down so that he was lying on his side next to Hephaestion. "That is a welcome change. Now you have a small taste of what I must suffer through every day."_

"_I am half a head taller than you! That is hardly reason to complain," Hephaestion snorted, shoving lightly at Alexander's shoulder. "And I have told you countless times that you would have no need to complain if you simply wore lifts in your sandals."_

_The comment earned him a punch to the shoulder from Alexander. "I am not so vain as all that."_

_Hephaestion continued to chuckle, rubbing at his shoulder. "My apologies. Though you must admit that it has a nice ring to it: Alexander, dwarf prince of Macedon."_

_Hephaestion's laughter was lost in the sound of Alexander's outraged cry as the smaller youth launched upon him. At the end of their brief tussle they were both laughing breathlessly, their bodies twisted together and their faces close enough one's breath panted hotly against the other's cheek._

"_Remind me again why I do not ship your insolent carcass back to Athens?"_

_Grinning broadly, Hephaestion pressed his lips wetly to Alexander's. "Because there will never be another who loves you more."_


	13. Part XIII

**Part XIII**

Philip stared dispassionately at the body of the second dead Epirot soldier. Unlike his predecessor, something had been gained with his death. The new information did not ease Philip's mind either, for it had only confirmed the thing that he most feared; Olympias' involvement. The woman was mad and needed to be sent away. Far away where her poison could no longer taint their son because, regardless of Attalus' grumblings about the availability of his niece and what fine sons they could bear together, Alexander would be the one to succeed him. Though still prone to the hotheadedness of youth, Alexander had certainly proven his worth in the past few years. Another few years and the boy would be a force to be reckoned with.

"What will you do?" Amyntor demanded, coming to stand beside him.

"At this exact moment I do not know," Philip admitted with a sigh. "I know what must be done, but am not entirely certain how to go about it."

"What will you tell Alexander?"

Turning away from the scene of the torture, Philip stared back towards the camp. "The truth. He deserves as much."

What neither of them voiced was the extreme likelihood that Hephaestion knew of Olympias' involvement in what had been done to him. That viper was not one to let her deeds go unnoticed. And since they had learned from the soldier that Hephaestion was not meant to have left the mines alive, she would not have bothered to hide her role from her victim. With some of his own pages involved, Philip could not help but wonder just how much influence his insane wife wielded.

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He looked up as Alexander entered the tent, forcing himself to smile at his lover. It was not that he was not genuinely glad to see Alexander, but rather that he regretted the strain he could see so clearly lining his features. Alexander looked utterly exhausted and he knew that he was the reason.

"You look better," Alexander murmured as he came to sit next to him on the cot; close, but not close enough to be physically touching him. "Another day and we should be ready to leave."

"That brute of yours must be positively livid having been in one place for so long," he tried to jest, tilting his head towards Alexander's.

"No more than Xanthus at this point," Alexander returned, smiling briefly.

He paused at that, ashamed to admit that he had not given the fate of his beloved mount any consideration. He would not have been surprised to learn that Xanthus had been slaughtered given his own fate. It would have been difficult to explain the horse's continued presence in the barrack stables when its master was meant to be in Athens.

"Was anything done to him?"

Alexander was quick to shake his head. "No. He was sold to a horse farmer near Thermia. We found him while we were searching for you. Or, rather, Bucephalas did. He must have caught Xanthus' scent because he put up a huge fuss and refused to go further."

"I had better reward the brute for that or he will become even more insufferable," he murmured, doing his utmost to make his smile appear genuine. The wistful sigh that followed was not forced. "If I did not think I would fall off I would ride from here tonight."

"We could do it," Alexander responded immediately, leaning forward to brace his forearms against his thighs. "It will be full dark in another hour and provided this is what you truly want we could leave. You could ride with me until you feel strong enough to handle Xanthus on your own and with a whole night ahead of our fathers it would take them time to find us."

It was so utterly tempting. He knew that it was nearly impossible for them to succeed, but the chance to be away from so many watchful eyes was appealing.

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Arybbas had been a fool. A young, naïve fool who had had no idea of what a man was capable of when his life was in jeopardy. But then he had never seen a true battle or the desperation that it could create in a man. So instead of simply killing the prince's Athenian pet cleanly, he had toyed with the man. Toyed with a man who had spent a month in Hades and had been stripped of every ounce of humanity he had once possessed. Hephaestion Amyntoros was little different than a mad dog that needed to be put down. And though the duty was no longer his to fulfill, he was certain that there were others who would. His queen would not be defeated by a mere Athenian. His queen was descended from Achilles himself while the Athenian's blood was likely tainted by sniveling sophists. He was not fit to share the battlefield with the prince let alone his bed.

With luck, Hephaestion would never return to Macedon.

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Even as he had approached the tent, Ptolemy knew that something was not right. The fact that it was quiet was not strange; given Hephaestion's condition that was to be expected. It was the stillness that troubled him. It felt utterly devoid of life and he could only offer up a quick prayer to the gods that Alexander had not done anything foolish.

As expected, when he entered the tent, Ptolemy could find no sign of either Alexander or Hephaestion. Worse still, the bedroll Alexander had been using was missing along with the box of medicines the physician had taken to leaving in the tent.

Alexander and Hephaestion were gone.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Ptolemy struggled to come up with his next plan of action. Reporting his discovery to the king was what he knew he should do, but there was something that held him back. Some unknown voice coaxing him to wait. For what, exactly, he could not be sure. So instead of going to the king, Ptolemy instead chose the corral where the horses were being kept.

"Ptolemy, wait!" Leonnatus shouted, jogging towards him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Never breaking his stride, Ptolemy shook his head. "It is better if you do not know, my friend. Go back to whatever business you were doing and forget that you saw me."

"You cannot expect me to stay behind with such ominous tidings as that," Leonnatus snorted as he fell in step beside him. "Alexander has done something, has he not?"

"He appears to have vanished and taken Hephaestion with him."

"Zeus' cock," Leonnatus cursed under his breath. "He has less sense than that half-wit brother of his. Do they really think they will get far?"

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Hephaestion's breath was warm against his shoulder. Simply getting Hephaestion unseen to the horse corral had taken all of his lover's strength so for the time being they both rode Bucephalas while Xanthus trailed behind on a lead line. For all the antagonism Hephaestion and Bucephalas exhibited under normal conditions, that night the horse was oddly subdued. He had stood patiently while Alexander had helped Hephaestion to mount, shifting in accordance with Hephaestion's unbalanced movements.

Having been responsible for the location and rotation of the sentries when they had first made camp, Alexander had been able to select a path from the camp that had allowed them to leave unseen. Within minutes Hephaestion had drifted into a light doze.

For the life of him, Alexander had no idea where he and Hephaestion were bound except that it was away from Illyria and Epirus. Not long ago he would have instinctively gone to his mother's people, but no more. He could not trust his mother. Not if there was even a remote chance that she was involved in what had been done to Hephaestion. And, loathe as he was to admit it, there was simply too much evidence against her.

His mother would have killed Hephaestion and cleaved a bloody chunk from his own soul in the process. She had known the extent of his relationship with Hephaestion and had to have been aware what the consequences would be if Hephaestion were taken from him. He loved Hephaestion just as Achilles had loved Patroclus and likewise it would have been inevitable that he would soon join Hephaestion had his love died. Alexander knew that he would not long survive his beloved. It was their fate.

Olympias had known all of this and still she had tried to have Hephaestion removed because she felt threatened by their love.

Bucephalas' reigns slipped from Alexander's suddenly nerveless fingers.

"_Hephaestion loves me, Mother, and I love him. There will be no room in my heart for another. I will not bed these women you continue to send to me, nor will I marry. Hephaestion is all that I need."_

He had caused it. Hephaestion had said that there had been a price to pay for their love, but Alexander had not believed him and had thought that it was only the lingering effects of the fever. But Hephaestion had known. Hephaestion had known and had kept it from him, likely in some foolish attempt to protect him.

"I did this."

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"Where is that boy? I will strangle him with my own two hands!" Philip raged as he stalked about the camp. "Has he lost what remains of his senses?"

"He is scared. He has already nearly lost Hephaestion to this foul mess and to Hephaestion himself and now he is being told that they will be separated when we leave here. Alexander is simply reacting and will return when he has thought things through."

Philip glowered at Cleitus. "You had better not know anything of this."

"Only what I have seen over the past few days which is that both Alexander and Hephaestion are barely holding themselves together."

For all that he wanted to deny Cleitus' words, he knew they were true because he had seen the exact same thing. He had been able to see himself just how much Alexander had been suffering. His body may not have been as ravaged as Hephaestion's, but it was clear that he was floundering just as much as the other boy. And try as he might to understand it, he simply could not. Even with all of the wives, mistresses and boys he had had over the years, Philip knew that he did not love any of them the way Alexander loved Hephaestion.

Still, much as he may sympathize with the boys' plight, Alexander was a prince and could not act out on his emotions.

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Amyntor seethed with silent fury. Alexander was placing his son in unnecessary danger by taking him away from the camp. Illyria was a dangerous territory and Hephaestion was injured. If there was any mishap his son might not be able to protect himself. Alexander could get his son killed. Even more frustrating was the fact that he knew Hephaestion had been a willing participant in this disappearance. The boy was fiercely loyal and entirely too sentimental. He would not have taken well to the knowledge that he would not be returning to Macedon longer than it would take to reach a port.

"We can only hope that the young fools had sense enough to take one of the main tracks from here," Philip said as he took the reigns of his horse. Amyntor was still waiting for a groom to bring him his own mount. "Neither of them knows the area so it is likely that they would stick to one of the main paths until they come to a village. They would be mad to attempt anything else."

The groom had just arrived with his horse when Amyntor noticed a movement off to the side, just beyond the light cast by the torches. A moment later, a familiar black stallion appeared bearing two riders, a second horse trailing behind.

Alexander and Hephaestion had returned.

"By all the gods, boy, what is going on in that head of yours?" Philip demanded, thrusting the reigns to a nearby groom and stomping towards their sons.

There was none of the defiance Amyntor had expected to see in Alexander's posture, nor was there any sign of an escort which meant they had likely returned on their own. If anything, Alexander looked thoroughly cowed by some emotion that was weighing heavily on him. Hephaestion, Amyntor was pleased to see, was awake, blinking owlishly as he sat with his arms wrapped around Alexander's middle.

"I am sorry, Father," Alexander whispered when he stopped his beast of a horse before Philip. "I acted childishly and will not do it again. I will abide by whatever you command."

Hephaestion said something then, but it was spoken too quietly and into Alexander's ear so none but the prince heard the words. Whatever Hephaestion had said, it did not seem to ease Alexander in any way. His expression became more pained and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Equally aware of Alexander's internal agony, much of Philip's anger appeared to have evaporated. His displeasure was obvious, but no longer quite so volatile.

"I have half a mind to keep you both on opposite sides of the camp," Philip sighed at last, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "It would serve you right after such foolishness."

"If that is your will, Father, I will—"

"Quite, boy, I have not finished," Philip interrupted him, staring levelly at Alexander until he was sure his son would keep silent. "So, even though I know it is what I should do, it is not what will be done. I do not plan to be here for more than another day so it seems a wasted effort to keep you apart. Besides which, you will be separated soon enough when Hephaestion returns to Athens."

Amyntor would have expected some kind of reaction, but both boys were utterly silent. The only noticeable reaction they gave was Alexander's left hand coming to rest over top of Hephaestion's.

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There was something amiss. Something had happened after they had left the camp only he did not know what it was. He had not realized that they were returning until they had reached the very edges of the camp. There had been no escort with them which could only mean that Alexander had decided to return of his own free will. Just why Alexander would choose to do that he could not figure out.

"Easy now, lad," his father murmured as he reached a hand up to help him down. "Time to get you back safely to your bed."

He allowed himself to be helped down and immediately looked back up to where Alexander remained seated astride Bucephalas. It was easy to see that the horse was agitated, no doubt mimicking his master's mood. Try as he might, though, he could not figure out what would have caused Alexander to turn round.

"Alexander," he called as his father started to lead him away.

Alexander looked at him for only a moment, but it was enough for him to see the utterly desolation on his love's face.

Alexander knew.


	14. Part XIV

**Part XIV**

It was several hours before Alexander returned to the tent he shared with Hephaestion. A good portion of that time had been spent with his father, but not enough to warrant him spending so much time away from Hephaestion. The simple truth was that he could not bear to be near Hephaestion then; not knowing that he was the reason behind his love's suffering. Whatever her reasons, Olympias had done this in his name. He was the reason that Hephaestion had been made to suffer.

Pulling aside the flap of the tent, Alexander stood there for several minutes simply watching Hephaestion as he slept. Hephaestion may have looked peaceful then, but Alexander knew that it was only a façade. Hephaestion had been hurt deeply by Olympias' plots and Alexander feared to ever see again what had been taken from his beloved.

"You are letting in a chill breeze."

The words so startled Alexander that his entire body jerked and the hide tent flap slipped from his fingers. It fell against his shoulder and Alexander pushed at it irritably so that it slid behind him, enclosing both him and Hephaestion in the tent.

"I did not mean to wake you," Alexander stated dumbly, not moving any further into the tent.

Finally Hephaestion's eyes opened and he stared tiredly at Alexander. "I have not yet slept so it is impossible to have woken me.... I did not think you would come back."

"I can go if you—"

"That is not what I meant," Hephaestion said, immediately cutting him off. With an obvious amount of effort Hephaestion managed to get himself seated with his legs dangling over the edge of the cot, the blanket covering him pooling about his hips. "I do want you here, Alexander. Never doubt that. You are the one thought that was in my head all those weeks."

"But I am the reason you are here," Alexander protested, unable to coax himself away from the edge of the tent. "This was done to you because I love you."

"You are not the cause of this."

"My mother arranged for all this to be done to you because I told her that I love you above all others. I would not bed the girls that she wanted and will not marry." Alexander snorted then, barely swallowing a burst of hysterical laughter. "The woman is mad enough to believe that I could ever consider loving another if you were taken from me."

"You are not your mother," Hephaestion sighed, his voice laced with exhaustion. "Her actions have nothing to do with you. She may have claimed to be acting in your interest, but her concerns were only her own."

Hephaestion's jaw shut with an audible click at that, his eyes widening as he realized the extent of his words. Any doubts that had been lingering in Alexander's mind were thoroughly abolished and he found himself staggering towards Hephaestion. His vision blurred in the half dozen steps it took to cross the space and he fell to his knees before his beloved. Swallowing a sob, Alexander leaned forward to rest his forehead against Hephaestion's thigh, arms wrapped around his waist as though he could somehow sink entirely into his love.

"Furies be damned, I will kill her myself if that is what you desire," he moaned against Hephaestion's leg, the warmth of those thighs soothing him. "I will risk the wrath of all the gods if only I can make you whole again."

Tears that he had been trying to hold at bay began to pour from him as Hephaestion's fingers sunk into his hair.

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He could only stare down at the weeping wretch who seemed determined to meld their bodies together. In that moment Alexander was utterly broken by the one thing he had tried so hard to keep from him. He had never wanted Alexander to know that particular truth and had planned to take it with him to the River Styx and beyond, where it would be forgotten by all once he drink from the forgetful waters of the Lethe. He would only have needed to keep the information from Alexander for another few weeks, but that opportunity was lost now.

Moving carefully so as not to stretch the still-healing skin on his back overly so, he leaned his upper body over Alexander's, hugging him close. If it were possible he would disappear entirely within Alexander. Alexander would make him forget about it all entirely. He might even be able to convince himself that none of it had happened.

At the moment, however, he did not matter; not when Alexander was plotting matricide. As much as he personally loathed and feared Olympias, he would not allow Alexander to suffer the consequences of her murder.

"Do not kill her, Alexander," he murmured against Alexander's back. "She is not worth all that you will suffer because of it."

Alexander sat up so quickly that the back of his head slammed into Hephaestion's shoulder, throwing him off balance. Before he could fall backwards, Alexander caught hold of his arm, steadying him. His own hands automatically grabbed hold of Alexander's upper arms.

"You mean to tell me that you do not want vengeance for what was done to you?" Alexander demanded while he struggled to gain his bearings.

"I simply mean that I do not want you saddled with the guilt. She is your mother."

Slowly a faraway look took over Alexander's eyes. "She is a vile woman. She would isolate me from those that I love and treat me as a puppet. Her golden avenger," Alexander spat out, sitting back on his heels as he turned his face into the shadows. "She called me that when I was young. She wanted to destroy my father through me and now this.... Gods, Phae, I swear by Heracles, Zeus, Achilles, Patroclus... I swear that I did not know that she would do something like this. I thought that she knew...."

"Knew what?" he managed to choke out, Alexander's agony squeezing like a press about his heart.

Alexander turned back to him, his lips twisted in a strained, yet still fond, smile and his eyes glittered with tears. "That I am nothing without you. That I would slowly fade into nothingness if you were to die before me. Your loss would cleave me in two."

Try as he might, he could find no words to express what he felt; it was all roiling just below the surface. So he did what he could which was lift his right hand to hold Alexander's cheek and hope that his own glassy eyes would be enough of a response.

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It felt as though he had run the entire circumference of Pella's outer walls. All of the muscles in his body ached and trembled, straining even though all he had done was knee before Hephaestion. He leaned his cheek into Hephaestion's palm, taking what comfort he could until a quiet voice reminded him that he should be the one caring for Hephaestion. His lover's skin was white as newly fallen snow save for lingering bruises and cuts and the dark rings about his eyes. He seemed to sway even as he sat still.

"You need to sleep, love," Alexander murmured, turning his face to brush a kiss to the heel of Hephaestion's palm. "This night has lasted far too long already."

Hephaestion squeezed his eyes shut tight and nodded jerkily. "Sleep. Sleep is good." When he blinked his eyes open a moment later, Hephaestion was staring at him so intently that he could not have looked away even if he wanted to. "Stay with me?"

Alexander could have attempted to convince himself that Hephaestion only wanted company in the tent, but he knew better. He was desperate for the exact same thing himself so he nodded his head as he helped Hephaestion to stretch back out on the cot. There really was not enough room for two, but Alexander knew that they could make due. They had certainly slept in more confined spaces over the years. So, once he was certain that Hephaestion was lying comfortably he carefully crawled in behind him. Lying on his left side, curled up against Hephaestion's back, Alexander was unsure of what to do with his right arm.

With an exasperated sigh, Hephaestion reached back and latched onto his wrist, dragging it down across his waist. "I will not shatter."

Though he did not contradict Hephaestion's words, Alexander did not fully believe them either. He had already come close to seeing Hephaestion shatter only a few paces from where they were currently lying. But Hephaestion was the strongest man he knew and he could recover from it if only he had a proper chance to rest.

"Your father wants to take you back to Athens with him."

Hephaestion's fingers tightened briefly about his wrist. "I know. He has told me."

"Will you go with him?"

"He is my father, how can I deny him?"

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Even though he was fairly certain that Alexander knew of his intentions to go with his father without a fuss, he said nothing of it. Alexander would not understand. Alexander would hear nothing beyond the fact that he wanted to leave. Leave him. Except that was the last thing he wanted; he just was not sure how to _ibe/i_ around Alexander. Desperate as he was to be near Alexander, he constantly had to force himself not to flinch away from his touch.

"Rest, beloved, I will guard your sleep," Alexander murmured against the side of his head, flingers splaying across his stomach.

Much as he wanted to deny it, his eyelids felt as though they were weighed down by lead. Exhaustion was making his entire body feel stone-heavy, but he feared to sleep.

"I want to stay with you," he yawned, his body relaxing as sleep tugged at him.

"And I with you. Always."

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"_Hephaestion! Phae!"_

_Alexander's voice sounded a world away, echoing between the dying screams._

"_Alexander!"_

_Staggering through the wreckage of bodies and horses, Hephaestion slowly made his way towards Alexander's voice. It was difficult to see through the thick smoke and his left leg was constantly threatening to give out under him. He did not remember the blow that had caused the injury, but was relieved to see that Xanthus had suffered little injury from whatever sword or missile had caused the damage. To be certain, though, he was walking alongside the beast rather than risk further damage by riding him._

"_Hephaestion!"_

_A wall of black smoke seemed to part as Alexander burst through, as glorious and bloodied as Ares himself. His entire being seemed to radiate with the coursing energy of the battle, eyes flashing and hair as wild as a lion's mane._

"_Can you believe it, Phae? The Sacred Band! We came up against the Sacred Band and we are the ones still standing," Alexander marveled as he flung his arms about Hephaestion's shoulders. "As much as it grieves me to have killed such valiant men, I cannot help but revel in our victory. Is that wrong of me?"_

_Hephaestion shook his head, tightening his hold about Alexander's middle. "They found as we do, side by side. Today, however, the gods favored us. And while that might not always be so, at least each is bound to the land of the dead with his love."_

"_Just as we will one day."_

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Alexander knew the instant Hephaestion came awake. His lover drew a sudden deep breath and then was utterly still as he took stock of his surroundings. It grieved Alexander that Hephaestion no longer seemed to know him. It was not long ago that Hephaestion would merely relax deeper into his embrace when he woke. For all that he understood it, it was still painful to realize that his love was now as guarded around him as he was around others.

"Why did we return?" Hephaestion murmured, turning his head so that Alexander was able to see his profile. "I could not have been so deeply unaware that I did not wake at the sound of pursuit."

For a brief second it occurred to Alexander that he could create some excuse that was close enough to the truth that Hephaestion would not immediately see the lie. Except that Hephaestion knew him too well for such a thing to be possible. Hephaestion would be able to hear the falsehoods in the mere tone of his voice and Alexander knew that he could not lie to Hephaestion then.

"I was scared," Alexander admitted at last, turning his face into Hephaestion's cropped hair so that his love would not be able to see his face.

"Scared of what?"

"Myself. That simply being near me could place you in danger again," Alexander whispered, a shudder overtaking him despite the warmth inside the tent and wrapped up in a blanket with Hephaestion. "That is something I could not bear."

Hephaestion began to twist about then, wincing quietly as he struggled onto his back. There really wasn't enough room so Alexander started to raise himself up only to have Hephaestion grab hold of his shoulder, keeping him in place. Alexander could see the strain on Hephaestion's face caused by the pain of his uncomfortable position, but there was determination there too so Alexander didn't attempt to coax him off his damaged back.

"I will never be in danger simply by being near you," Hephaestion insisted, holding his gaze. "Even if I was, I do not care. I love you, Alexander. What others do to me will never change that. Even if I somehow managed to forget myself, I would always remember you."

"Gods, Phae...." Alexander moaned, pressing his face into Hephaestion's shoulder. Try as he might, he could coax no words from his lips after that.

Feeling the utter tenseness in Hephaestion's body, a rigidity that Alexander hoped was not caused by how close they were lying, he carefully shifted both himself and Hephaestion about so that Hephaestion was lying mostly on top of him. The other man did not try to pull away, instead relaxing into him.

"Rest easy, love," Alexander whispered against the top of Hephaestion's head, swallowing a yawn of his own.

"May the gods guard your sleep," Hephaestion murmured, lips brushing against the side of Alexander's throat as he spoke.

Things were far from sorted out between them, but at the moment Alexander did not think that he could stay awake any longer. Feeling Hephaestion's steady breath against his neck, Alexander fumbled to draw the blanket up higher on their bodies before allowing his own exhaustion to overtake him.

Perhaps in the morning things would no longer seem so dire.


	15. Part XV

**Part XV**

They were half a day's ride from Pella when they stopped to set up camp for the night. The chosen campsite was a juncture in the road: one continuing on to Pella, the other leading towards the main road to Thermia. All of them knew what it meant even if they did not speak it. Alexander and Hephaestion had one final night together before their fathers forced them along different paths. Though it was not a decision that any of them spoke of, it was understood that Alexander and Hephaestion would be left to their own devices that night.

"Do you think they will try to make a run for it again?" Leonnatus wondered aloud as he glanced towards the small fire Alexander and Hephaestion had built for themselves under a nearby tree.

Ptolemy uncorked his flagon of wine and raised it towards his lips while he spoke. "The king has both their horses under guard. If they mean to escape they will have to do it on foot."

"Which is something they could very well do."

Ptolemy took a long pull of his wine, hoping that it would not come to that. While he did not think that it was wise to separate them given all of the recent turmoil, in the end it was not his decision to make. Hephaestion may have been freed from the mines, but there were still those who wished him dead. A wound on the left side of Hephaestion's throat proved it. While there was no doubt that the jagged wound on the right side of his neck was caused by Hephaestion himself, on the left side there was a similar cut that Hephaestion had also received that morning. The second injury—along with several minor cuts on the outer edges of his hands –received from the page that Hephaestion had killed. Hephaestion had been unable to recall if the second page had been present and, in truth, had not been able to recall much about the attack itself. Had Alexander and the physician not been intimately aware of each of Hephaestion's injuries and spotted the new ones it would have been difficult to determine whether Hephaestion had been attacked or simply killed Arybbas unprovoked.

"Even if Hephaestion is taken to Athens I do not think they will be apart long," Ptolemy said quietly, passing the flagon to Seleucus.

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Now that they were so close to Pella, Philip was no longer so certain that it was wise to place Alexander and Olympias in such close quarters. While he did not think for an instant that Olympias would harm the boy physically, he could not be so certain that Alexander would not try to kill his cursed mother. Philip would not mourn the mad woman's demise, but he could not risk his heir being driven to insanity by the Furies for murdering her. Better either to arrange to have her killed by another or send her back to Epirus in exile and let her brother deal with her lunacy. Philip was certain that he could gain the man's loyalty by offering up his daughter Cleopatra's hand in marriage when she came of age in a year or so. It would also serve to neutralize Olympias by making Cleopatra the link between the Macedonian and Epirot royal houses.

"I think that I should depart with Hephaestion and our escort at sunrise tomorrow," Amyntor said as he came to stand next to Philip. "Some extra poppy seed in his wine tonight and he might not even wake until we are already underway."

"Less dramatics that way."

Though neither of them spoke of it aloud, they did not relish having to separate their sons the following day. It was, however, a necessity if Hephaestion was to be kept safe.

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"I do not want to think of what tomorrow will bring," Alexander murmured, tightening his grip upon Hephaestion briefly. "Your father will never let you return. He blames me for what was done to you and will keep you in Athens. Maybe even send you off to Argos like he mentioned."

Hephaestion's hands came up to hold his wrists and he turned his head, brushing a kiss against Alexander's upper arm. "Sending me away does not mean I will stay away. My father knows this."

"He will still try."

"He will fail."

Try as he might, Alexander could not convince himself that Amyntor did not mean to separate them permanently. It would not surprise him if the general tried to sneak Hephaestion out of the camp before dawn. Hephaestion could very well be gone when he next awoke. So he hugged Hephaestion tighter to his chest as though the act alone could keep his love with him.

"I worry for you; when you see your mother again," Hephaestion said quietly a few minutes later, his voice nearly drowned out by the noise of the camp that easily penetrated the hide walls of the tent. "She will not take well to the fact that she was not able to remove me from your life."

Alexander pressed his lips to the smooth skin behind Hephaestion's ear, his eyes squeezed shut tight. "You are my life and my mother would do well to remember it."

Hephaestion sighed deeply, his body slumping away from Alexander. "I wish that you had never found out. I would have spared you that knowledge if I could."

"How would you have done that?"

Hephaestion's silence confirmed Alexander's fears at once. His love had not meant to return from Athens. The slumped, dejected set of Hephaestion's shoulders spoke volumes. The very thought of Hephaestion taking his own life made Alexander feel ill and he brought his hands up to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as though he could block the sight of Hephaestion's corpse lying bloodied on the ground.

"You will come back from Athens?" Alexander finally managed to choke out.

Slowly, Hephaestion turned his body so that he was facing Alexander. Lifting a hand to finger the longer strands of the other man's hair, he nodded his head. "I will return."

Relief caused Alexander's body to sag against Hephaestion's. Palms resting against the taller boy's shoulders, he leaned forward to brush his lips against the angry red cut that had nearly taken Hephaestion from him. As he leaned forward he could feel the slight tug on his own neck as the leather cord that held the medallion he wore swing briefly. A medallion that he was now the sole wearer of.

Straightening quickly, Alexander began to fumble for the knife belted at his waist.

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He was not sure what to expect when Alexander reached for his knife. He did not flinch away, though. There was no need because he knew that Alexander would not harm him. He was proved right when Alexander brought the short blade to his own head and sawed off a curled lock of hair from behind his ear. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but closed it when Alexander reached towards the medallion he wore about his neck. A medallion identical to one he had once worn as well. The medallion twisted apart to reveal a hollow where a short passage of the _iIliad_/i to be contained… or a lock of hair.

"If I cannot be with you in person, I would have a part of me go with you," Alexander murmured as he lifted the medallion over his head.

Hephaestion pursed his lips, knowing that any attempt he made to speak would result only in a few cracked, broken sounds. Instead he tipped his head forward, allowing Alexander to slip the knotted leather cord over his head. Hephaestion held the medallion in his hand, the wood warm from resting against Alexander's chest. He rubbed his thumb over the carved images of Achilles and Patroclus, silently lamenting the loss of his own.

It was a surprise when the hilt of Alexander's knife appeared suddenly before him. Hephaestion slowly lifted his head, staring intently at Alexander's serious expression.

"I want her to know that I stand united with you," Alexander said solemnly, his free hand coming up to hold the side of Hephaestion's neck, fingers ruffling through the cropped strands of hair at the base of his skull. "To know that every hurt you have suffered is a wound to my soul. It is a trite symbol compared to all that you have endured, I know, but I can think of nothing else to show her the extent of what she meant to do. Please, Hephaestion."

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The sky was only beginning to shift to purple when Amyntor slipped into the tent Hephaestion and Alexander had kept themselves secluded in for much of the night. Guards were posted all around it to ensure that the pair did not attempt to leave the camp, but Amyntor did not think an attempt would be made after Alexander had willingly returned following their first one. While he took no joy in the guilt that had brought about that return, he was nonetheless grateful for it as it had ensured that Hephaestion was kept safe.

Amyntor was brought up short when he caught sight of the two youths tangled together in a mess of furs and other blankets. The dim light not withstanding, it took him a moment to recognize Alexander with his hair cropped so closely to his skull.

"I will not go with you, Father."

Amyntor's gaze immediately turned to his son, surprised to find Hephaestion staring up at him.

"I will not leave Alexander."

"We have discussed this, Hephaestion. It is better for you to return to Athens with me," Amyntor protested, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Alexander and add a second voice to the protests. "You will be safe in Athens."

Hephaestion separated himself from Alexander and sat up, his face an image of solemn amusement. "I am not even safe from myself at the moment, Father. How can you possibly think that I will be any safer in Athens? Have you conveniently forgotten that not even a week ago I attempted to slit my own throat?"

"You had just been attacked and were not thinking clearly," Amyntor sought to rationalize.

"Except that I was," Hephaestion said calmly, draping an arm across his drawn-up knees, the other reaching out so that he could lay a hand on Alexander's chest. "I saw a body coming towards me and knew that I would not be able to escape except by removing myself as a target. I will not be used for sport ever again."

Amyntor sighed deeply, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I will take you to Athens by force if I must. Whether you will see it or not, you are in danger here."

"Then I will suffer the consequences."

It was becoming clear that he would need to resort to physically removing Hephaestion from Alexander's side in order to get him to leave the other youth. Enough time had passed that Hephaestion was recovering from his physical injuries and could no longer be ordered about like a meek puppy. As much as that information comforted him, likewise, Amyntor could not help but be frustrated by it. Had they not been so far inland he would have been able to take Hephaestion home sooner. It was travel over land by horseback that Hephaestion had not been fit for. Traveling by boat would have required him to do nothing more strenuous than lie on a make-shift couch.

"Please try to understand that what you ask of me is impossible, Father."

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That he was so slow to wake surprised Alexander. Even more surprising was the fact that he could feel Hephaestion curled up against his side. Alexander had fully expected to wake alone with no idea of when he would next see his best friend. So though he had not yet opened his eyes, Alexander squeezed them shut tight and rolled towards Hephaestion, winding himself around the other man.

"He did not take you," Alexander moaned against Hephaestion's shoulder, the words half-choked around tears. "I did not think you would still be here."

Hephaestion's arms hugged him tightly, warm breath panted against the side of his head. "I did not expect to be here either."

Alexander silently offered up thanks to whatever forces had compelled Amyntor to allow Hephaestion to remain. At the moment he did not care about the reasons, all that mattered was that he had not lost Hephaestion.

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Hephaestion himself was still at a loss as to why his father had relented and allowed him to remain with Alexander. When he had made his protests, he had fully expected his father to simply disregard them and force him to leave. The possibility still remained that they were bound for Athens so Hephaestion fully intended to make the most of what time he and Alexander had together.

For a long time neither of them spoke, they simply laid together in the bed they had created for themselves on the floor of the tent. It was better to simply take joy in the time that they had because Hephaestion knew that eventually his father would insist that they return to Athens if for no other reason than Amyntor's business interests lay in that particular Greek city.

"Did you want to go to Mieza to recover?" Alexander asked him quietly, still not looking up from his chest. "Or we could also go to Aegae."

Hephaestion's fingers played with the bristly ends of Alexander's shorn hair. "I want to be wherever you are."

"As do I," Alexander murmured, at last raising his head. "But where would you rather be?"

"Mieza will be quieter," he hedged, uneasy about making such a decision.

"It is also far from my mother," Alexander snarled with a venom that Hephaestion had never before thought to hear from Alexander in regards to Olympias. "She will not be able to hurt you if we go to Mieza."

"Nor will she be able to harm you."

Alexander's brows furrowed, a look of utter bafflement crossing his features. "It does not matter what she does to me. She will not attempt to harm me physically. She may try to drive me mad, but she will not succeed."

It frightened Hephaestion to see what Olympias had done to his beloved. Never before had he seen Alexander consumed with such anger. It worried him to think about what would happen when mother and son crossed paths once again. Knowing Alexander as he did, it would not be a chance encounter. Alexander would seek out the mad queen and confront her. And that, more than facing her himself, terrified Hephaestion.

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There was movement near Alexander's tent and Cleitus found that he could not be shocked by the sight that greeted him when Alexander and Hephaestion stepped out. What surprised him was that it had taken so long for Alexander to cut his hair. From the moment they had learned of Hephaestion's abduction Cleitus had been waiting for Alexander's hair to be shorn in true Homeric fashion. The cutting of his hair gave Alexander a look of peace about him that had not been present the night before.

"I am not entirely certain that this is wise," Amyntor said quietly, coming to stand next to him. "Failure will only make her bold."

"Then why are you not taking him back to Athens? He will be safe enough there."

Amyntor tracked the movement of the two youths with his eyes, sighing deeply. "Because, if I had forced him to come with me now, I do not think he would have still been alive when we reached Athens. The look in his eyes when I went to fetch him earlier.... It frightened me. He has been close enough to death now that he no longer fears it. I would not be surprised if he would think it a release now."

Cleitus watched the boys as well, the way they hung close to each other even in the midst of their friends. The pair almost seemed to move in tandem, never quite touching even as they moved over and around each other while they ate with Ptolemy, Leonnatus and the others.

"I am no fool. The only reason he has not ended things already is because of the prince," Amyntor continued, turning away from the group of youths passing about food and drink. "I cannot risk what Hephaestion will do if I try to take him from Alexander's side right now."

The Athenian general strode away then, leaving Cleitus standing alone while slaves and soldiers alike bustled about dismantling the camp. Half a day's ride would take them to Pella and what would happen there Cleitus could not even begin to guess.


	16. Part XVI

**Part XVI**

Alexander and Hephaestion rode side by side as they entered Pella later that afternoon. It had only been a few weeks since he had left, but after all that had occurred, the place where he had grown up seemed utterly foreign to him.

For the moment, Alexander had no intention of returning to the palace. He would stay in the barracks with Hephaestion because he could not trust how he would react at the sight of his mother. The mere thought of her made his body tense with rage. That she could do something so vile to Hephaestion was still inconceivable to him, but he knew that she had done it. Hephaestion would not lie about such things and had in fact gone to great lengths to keep it secret. Hephaestion would have killed himself to prevent Alexander from knowing the truth about his mother.

There was certainly no mistaking the fact that he and Hephaestion were under guard when they entered the city. For much of the ride that day they had been alone, but as they had reached the outskirts of Pella, Ptolemy, Leonnatus, Seleucus, Perdiccas, Nearchus, and Harpalus had moved up to surround them. The six men said nothing, but their intentions were obvious. As a unit, they steered Alexander and Hephaestion towards the barracks and away form the main procession which was escorting Philip to the palace where he had nearly two weeks of business to catch up on.

Surrounded as they were, Alexander could clearly see the confused expressions on the faces of the members of the Vanguard who had remained behind. No doubt rumors of what had happened in Illyria had reached Pella, but there would not have been time for rumors of Alexander's own appearance to reach the city. But Alexander did not shy away from it. Instead, he sat up straighter, daring any to mock either of their appearances. Those that spoke ill of Hephaestion would most certainly come to regret it.

"Ahhh, home at last," Seleucus sighed dramatically as they reigned in front of the stables. "No more sleeping under the stars for me. A nice warm bed."

"And hopefully a nice warm girl," Leonnatus added, sliding from his mount's back. "It seems a lifetime since I last saw Antigone."

"It must have been because she was warming my bed when we left," Ptolemy poke up. "Though I do not recall her ever mentioning you."

While their friends bickered about their lovers, Alexander helped Hephaestion dismount Xanthus. His assistance amounted to little more than holding a hand out in case he was in need of support when Hephaestion slid to the ground. Hephaestion stumbled briefly, but managed to keep to his feet by grabbing hold of Xanthus' powerful neck.

"Perhaps I should have listened to the doctor and gone in a litter," Hephaestion chuckled as he drew himself back up to his full height.

Alexander shook his head, sliding a hand up Hephaestion's arm to grip his shoulder. "You would have hated every minute of it and been complaining the entire journey back."

Even as he spoke the words, Alexander knew that Hephaestion would not have offered up a single complaint. Hephaestion bore all discomforts silently and even when asked about them directly tried to make them seem less than they were. He would continue on past exhaustion if Alexander allowed him. So he would not. That night they would rest and provided Hephaestion was fit tomorrow they would continue on to Mieza with only a few friends that Alexander trusted.

Alexander hoped that they would not stay in Pella more than a day because he did not want to break his promise to Hephaestion.

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Amyntor's brat was not supposed to have returned from Illyria. He was supposed to be dead. Yet not only had he survived the Illyrian mine, but he had returned to Pella riding alongside her son. Her golden Achilles was far too sentimental. He should have banished the Athenian from his thoughts and from his bed. Instead he was coddling a thing that was no longer worthy to be in his presence. The Athenian brat had been the plaything of the vilest sorts of men. Not only paid mercenaries, but common slaves. He was no longer even fit to stand beside her son let alone remain his cosseted lover.

However, she was not one to be thwarted. The whore would meet his end soon enough; before he could corrupt her beloved son any further. He was standing in the way of her little Achilles' destiny. So long as he continued to draw breath, Alexander would never marry and never father legitimate sons to carry on his legacy.

Now that they had returned to Pella, she could ensure that the Athenian whore was finally killed.

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The small window in Hephaestion's quarters did not offer much light, but once Alexander had lit the lamps it was cozy enough. They certainly would not need much like right then because Hephaestion had no intention of doing anything outside of sleeping. Much as he loathed to admit it, the days of travel on horseback had exhausted him. If it were at all possible he would sleep out the month.

"My father intends to replace all of the possessions that were taken from you," Alexander said as he glanced about the bare room.

"There is not much that was taken," Hephaestion yawned, blinking slowly in hopes of keeping his eyes open longer. "Clothes, a few scrolls, my armour, sword... all of those can be replaced. Though I am relieved that I decided against packing my copy of _The Myrmidons_. I would have hated to lose that."

Alexander slowly arched a brow, crossing the room so that he could slide into the bed alongside Hephaestion. "Why? That thing is a crumpled mess and on longer even rolls properly."

"That is because you fell asleep on it," Hephaestion murmured, shifting about so that he was on his side facing Alexander. "That afternoon at Mieza when you first gave me the medallion. It was what I was reading when you and the brute found me. Afterwards, however, you mistook it for a pillow."

Alexander said nothing to that, but reached out to finger the medallion that rested on the blankets between them, the cord still fastened about Hephaestion's neck.

_Sunlight dappled off of Alexander's damp skin, creating intricate patterns as the leaves shifted about in a breeze. Hephaestion could only watch and marvel at the sight of him. Alexander looked like a slumbering god, like Achilles himself. He was lying half-curled on his side, one hand tangled about the longer strands of Hephaestion's hair, the other flung above his head. Alexander's hair was as twisted and wild as a lion's mane and the only thing he wore was a medallion carved with the images of Achilles and Patroclus. Identical to the one Hephaestion wore._

_As his eyes began to drift shut, Hephaestion could not help but smile when he noticed the scroll he had been reading half stuck out of the balled up chiton Alexander was using as a pillow._

Blinking his eyes open, Hephaestion could not help but feel startled when instead of seeing Alexander resting beside him, he saw instead his father sitting upon a stool.

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Meeting with his father was the last thing Alexander wanted to do then, but he had been informed by Amyntor that it was expected of him if he meant to leave for Mieza the following day. The sole concern of both men was security, more specifically ensuring that Hephaestion was kept safe. Nothing would be left up to chance. There would be guards watching all possible access routes to the sanctuary and the only ones allowed within were people that Alexander specifically invited.

Still, Alexander wished that he had not been forced to leave Hephaestion while he still slept. He did not want Hephaestion to wake without him there, but the other man had been resting so peacefully that Alexander had been unwilling to wake him.

"Go on back," Philip grumbled, slumping back into his chair. "Your mind is with him anyway. We will finish this in the morning before you depart."

Alexander bowed his head respectively then hurried from his father's rooms. The half-hour he had been away was already too long and even though he knew Hephaestion would be perfectly safe in Amyntor's care, he did not want to leave him for long.

Wanting to retrieve his copy of _iThe Iliad/i_, though, forced Alexander to pass by his mother's rooms. And while he had no intention of confronting his mother then—he could not and keep his promise to Hephaestion –when he heard her singing, Alexander found that he could not take another step.

".... Trust the ones who give you love. Life has just begun, son...."

Alexander was in motion before he was even fully aware of his own intent. He shoved open the door and stalked into his mother's rooms, screaming for all the attendants to get out. His mother would not carry on as though she had not just attempted to have Hephaestion murdered. She had not even meant to give Hephaestion the honor of a clean death.

"You vile, snake-spawned witch! How could you do this?" Alexander raged as he stormed towards the balcony where his mother stood, snake coiled about her arm. "What crime has Hephaestion ever committed that you would do such a thing to him?"

Olympias' brows knit together, showing her displeasure. "You would accuse me of such a thing? Me, who has always had your best interests at heart?"

"My best interests? You tried to murder the other half of my very soul and would have murdered me as well. You could not have thought that such a thing would remain hidden for long."

Alexander watched his mother, waiting for some sign that would show her innocence. The slight twisting of her lips and the way she stroked the snake in her arms told a vastly different story. She was far too pleased with herself to not have played any role in Hephaestion's ordeal.

"You did it," Alexander gasped, the words nearly choking him.

"He made you weak. A king does not lower himself to anyone," Olympias spat out, leaving the balcony to slither across to the bed. "That Athenian whore made you weak. You are of Achilles' blood and should never—"

Every ounce of anger and rage that was in Alexander poured from him in a single scream. There were no words for it, everything tumbled out of him in that one sound. Alexander was not even aware of his own actions as he flew across the room, pinning his mother to her bed with his hands about her throat. He felt the bite of the snake, but did not care. For what she had done she would not continue to draw breath.

"Die, harpy! Sorceress!" Alexander screamed, his fingers tightening. "You will no longer poison another soul!"

Hands were on him then, hauling him off of Olympias. Hard as he tried to fight, though, he could not pull away from them.

"You birthed me in a sack of hate, you monster! I will kill you for what you did to him!"

The world around him was beginning to lose focus and though he struggled against it, in the end the darkness won out.

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Try as he might, Hephaestion could not fall back to sleep. His mind simply would not stop creating all sorts of horrid scenarios that could be taking place in the palace. Alexander had simply been gone too long and no matter how much his father tried to assure him that Alexander was with the king, Hephaestion could not help but worry.

"You need to rest, Hephaestion," his father implored, leaning forward with his elbows resting against his knees. "You will be on horseback again tomorrow and need your strength."

Hephaestion wearily scrubbed a hand over his face. "Alexander has been gone too long. Thorough as he and the king are, he should have returned by now."

Hephaestion lay still for a few seconds longer before rolling towards the opposite side of the bed and then to his feet. He stayed in a half-crouched position, hand on the bed to steady himself, then rose to his full height. Immediately his father was around the bed, reaching a hand out towards him when he wavered slightly. Hephaestion waved him off, closing his eyes briefly to stave off the momentary wave of dizziness.

"Stop right there," Amyntor ordered when Hephaestion began to move towards the door. "You are a fool if you think you are going anywhere near the palace."

"Something is wrong," Hephaestion insisted, attempting to step around his father. Amyntor merely followed the movement to halt his progress once again. "Please, Father, I need to see Alexander."

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It did not surprise Philip when Hephaestion rushed into Alexander's rooms before he could send someone to fetch the boy. The lad was pale as could be and looked utterly exhausted, but there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes. Without saying a word, Hephaestion made straight for the bed where Alexander was being tended. He silently climbed onto the bed and shifted over so that he was lying pressed against Alexander's side. Alexander was sweating and twitching, a result of the snake bite, but he moaned pitifully and turned his head towards Hephaestion when the other boy brushed a hand over his forehead.

"He was supposed to be heading back to the barracks," Philip said when Amyntor came to stand beside him. "His mind was on nothing except Hephaestion. Then one of the servant girls heard him scream...."

The physician finished with Alexander then, said something quiet to Hephaestion before stepping away from the bed. Hephaestion immediately gathered Alexander up in his arms, holding him close as the other boy continued to tremble and shake.

"The venom was not lethal, but I daresay the prince will be bedridden for a few days," the physician said as he approached. "I have left a drink that will help to settle his stomach should the need arise."

Philip nodded his head, squeezing the physician's shoulder as he walked past. There was nothing that he could think of to say; things were simply spiraling out of control. Olympias was becoming uncontrollable. Philip had worried when she had tried to have Hephaestion killed, but now the victim was he own son. Olympias most definitely needed to be removed before she had a chance to succeed.

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Even asleep Alexander's body continued to shudder. Hephaestion knew that it was not from any type of chill, but he still held Alexander close, hoping that proximity would ease his trembling. No matter how hard he tried, he could not comprehend the fact that Olympias had attempted to kill Alexander. She had always done everything for Alexander's sake and it made no sense for her to try and end his life. Yet that was exactly what she had done.

Hephaestion had been relieved when Philip said that the snake was not overly venomous. That there were likely much more deadly snakes in her keeping. Hephaestion wished that he could believe Alexander's purposely ending up in Olympias' rooms had been unintentional, but he simply could not. Alexander was entirely too volatile and would have been quick to confront his mother if provoked.

"What were you doing in those rooms?" Hephaestion murmured against Alexander's temple.

There was no answer, and Hephaestion had not expected one. He was simply relieved that it was not one of Olympias' more deadly snakes that had attacked Alexander. In that moment when he had first seen Alexander lying twitching on the bed, he had been unable to stop his fears from taking over. He had been unable to think of anything except the fact that he could very well be watching Alexander die and cursed himself for wanting to do the same thing to his beloved. Those few seconds had been utterly terrifying, but they were finished and he had been assured that Alexander would recover. Hephaestion had not intended to leave Alexander the same assurances.

"You will not loose me," Hephaestion murmured into what remained of Alexander's hair. "Only, I beg you, do not let me loose you."


	17. Part XVII

**Part XVII**

His entire body felt strangely numb yet at the same time his muscles ached as though they had been held clenched for an extended period. He could think of no reason why he would feel that way and was even less concerned when Hephaestion's fingers smoothed lightly over his forehead. It did not even occur to him to question whether or not it was Hephaestion who lay pressed against his side because it would be no one else.

"You have most certainly proven your point," Hephaestion murmured against his temple. "To lose you would be to lose a part of myself and I will not subject you to that. Not while it is within my power to remain by your side."

Alexander desperately wanted to convey his relief to Hephaestion, but simply turning his head towards the warm breath against his cheek was more than he could bear. Try as he might, darkness claimed him once again.

_Hephaestion arched a single brow, staring at his pointedly. "Have I ever informed you that you are entirely too reckless?"_

_Alexander grunted as the surgeon began to stitch the wound on his upper arm. "Not recently."_

"_Then perhaps I should remind you of the fact that, despite what your mother may claim, you were not actually dipped head first into the River Styx when you were an infant and that if you get into drunken brawls you will feel the effects the next day. Achilles is the only one who can get away with such things. For the time being you are still mortal so when Cassander starts up his games simply walk away."_

"_He was insulting you," Alexander pointed out, bringing a hand up to probe at his painfully swollen right eye. "He was calling you an Athenian whore."_

_Hephaestion merely shrugged his shoulders, wincing alongside Alexander when the latter pressed the tender skin a bit too firmly. "And I call him a weasel-faced hermaphrodite when the mood strikes me. What is your point?"_

"_You call him that?" Alexander chuckled. "To his face?"_

"_That is most definitely /inoti the point," Hephaestion said, the grin he was trying desperately to hide the only confirmation Alexander needed. "What you need to remember is that I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I do not need a protector. Especially not one who is a worse fighter than I am. You are liable to get both of us killed trying to defend my honor."_

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For the moment Olympias was under guard in a secluded section of the palace. Arrangements had to be made to get her out of Macedon and until then Philip had to content himself with locking up his mad wife. He did not wholly believe that she had truly meant to kill Alexander, however, the fact was that she very nearly had. Whatever had transpired between mother and son and had pushed Alexander to attempting matricide. Alexander had been insensible when the guards had pulled him off Olympias and that madness had nothing to do with the snake bite.

"What if he becomes as mad as she is?"

Philip had waited until he was alone with Amyntor before voicing the question Parmenion had put to him earlier. It was not a question that he wanted the answer to, but knew that it was one that must be asked.

"Alexander has always been headstrong, but this?"

"He is young and under a great deal of strain," was the response Amyntor gave after a few minutes of contemplation. "It is the same as with that cursed soldier at the mine: Alexander acted based solely on his emotions. I doubt very much that this will be the last time such a thing happens.... Do not, however, think that to mean I find Olympias guiltless. She needs to suffer for her crimes."

"And she will," Philip was quick to assure his friend. "After today she will be neutralized."

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Try as he might, Hephaestion was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open. He wanted to stay awake until Alexander regained consciousness, but each time he closed his eyes it became harder to lift the lids once again. Eventually he admitted that it would be a losing battle and curled in close to Alexander, hoping that he would wake if he felt Alexander stir.

"Phae...."

Hephaestion tried to open his eyes, but when that failed he pressed his face into Alexander's neck. "You are an idiot."

"Wha' 'appened?" Alexander grunted, his head turning enough so that his chin bumped into Hephaestion's forehead.

"You got yourself bit by one of your mother's foul snakes," Hephaestion yawned, managing to crack a single eye open. When he could see only the blurry outline of the edge of Alexander's nose he shut his eye. "Apparently you attacked her while she was holding one."

Alexander was silent, the stubble on his chin scratching against Hephaestion's forehead as he shook his head slightly. "I wanted to bring back the _Iliad_."

Hephaestion had no idea how Alexander had gone from wanting to fetch a copy of the _Iliad_ to trying to strangle his mother and could not find the energy to puzzle it out either. It would simply have to wait until they were both more aware.

"Didn' mean t' break my promise," Alexander mumbled a short while later.

On the verge of sleep himself, Hephaestion squeezed Alexander's middle. "I know."

"_What were you thinking letting me ramble on like that when your leg was cut open?"_

_Hephaestion shifted his leg experimentally to test the give in the stitches. Exhausted as he had to have been, the physician had done a good job sewing the wound shut. Hephaestion had not thought much about the wound himself and so had waved off several surgeons who had wanted to tend to him, sending them to take care of other more seriously injured soldiers. Unfortunately, he could not do the same to Alexander._

"_I did not think that it was quite so bad. Xanthus looked like he had the worst of it."_

_The stern expression on Alexander's face was made less by the way he was fussing over Hephaestion. "It cut nearly to the bone."_

"_You are exaggerating," Hephaestion snorted. He then winced as he pressed his heel into the ground too hard, tightening muscles that would rather have remained lax. Within the confines of his own tent, Hephaestion knew that he did not have to be quite so stoic, but in the end it was simply easier. Alexander would not worry so much and instead celebrate his amazing victory. At eighteen he had defeated the Sacred Band. With such a feat completed so early, Hephaestion knew that there could only be greatness to follow._

"_And you are a terrible liar."_

It was the sound of pitiful moans that roused Hephaestion from his sleep. As he became more aware he could feel Alexander twisting about in his arms. Awake instantly, Hephaestion clambered over Alexander towards the bedstand where Philip had left the medicine. He sat back on his heels, unstoppering the phial while Alexander fumbled weakly at his chiton.

"Easy love," Hephaestion murmured, levering Alexander's shoulder up so that he could swallow the medicine. Alexander was convulsing, looking as though he were about to vomit, but Hephaestion managed to get the medicine down his throat. Slowly the tremors eased and Hephaestion gathered Alexander up in his arms, holding him close. "Just relax. I have you."

"Just relax. I have you."

Alexander sunk gratefully into Hephaestion's chest. The flames slowly appeared to be fading from his muscles and he could rest more easily once again. Alexander was not entirely sure what had occurred, but was relieved that it had ended so quickly. It had felt as though his body were trying to consume itself.

"I think that was the worst of it," Hephaestion said quietly, fingers blessedly cool against his cheeks and forehead. "Philip said that your stomach might attempt to revolt against the venom."

The most Alexander could manage then was something halfway resembling a grunt. A moment later he could feel bile rising in his throat and desperately scanned about for something to empty his stomach into. He was saved the embarrassment of vomiting all over himself when Hephaestion placed a bowl in front of him. It was mostly just phlegmy bile that came up, but it burned horribly, making his eyes water. Alexander could only imagine the pathetic sight he made then.

"We are certainly a pathetic pair," Hephaestion chuckled as he stretched out alongside him once again. His movements were slow and careful and Alexander could not be sure if it was because of Hephaestion's own injuries or concern for his uneasy stomach. "Leonidas would throw a fit to see us now, coddling each other in your massive bed."

"Can go hang 'imself," Alexander grumbled, attempting to crack his eyes open marginally. "Stingy bastard."

Hephaestion chuckled quietly and drew Alexander against his chest. In the utter silence of the room, Alexander was fairly certain that he could feel Hephaestion's heart beating beneath his ear. A steady thump that slowly began to ease him back into sleep.

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The rooms she had been shut up in were all together too small and confining. She most certainly did not deserve to be locked up like a criminal within her own palace. Alexander had simply reacted a little too rashly and had been bitten as a consequence. Olympias would have never knowingly placed her darling son in danger. The boy had been around snakes his entire life, but had momentarily forgotten himself. Her Alexander would tell that fool Philip as much when he awoke. Hopefully by then he would also be over his lunacy regarding Amyntor's boy. There was no reason for the little Athenian harlot to hold such sway over her son. Her little Achilles could have any match he chose so there was no need for him to bind himself to a gutter whore. Soon enough he would see the error of his ways.

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"Just so that you are aware, you are both utterly mad."

Had he not been so famished, Hephaestion would have tossed the hunk of bread he was holding at Seleucus. Instead he dunked it into the pot of olive oil and rosemary, grinning as Nearchus hit him between the eyes with a grape.

"You had better watch who you call mad, boy, because there are stories that I could tell about you," Nearchus warned, rolling his eyes when Seleucus plucked the grape off his lip and ate it. "Speaking of which, how is Helena? Has she birthed the foal yet?"

That time it was Seleucus who smirked at Nearchus. "While we were away. The groom and I both agree that the colt is the spitting image of you."

"It's the goat that Seleucus impregnated," Perdiccas added helpfully.

"While you were rutting among the chickens."

It was not even midday yet they all sounded thoroughly drunk to Hephaestion. It would not have surprised him if that was the case. Their antics certainly made for interesting entertainment. Alexander himself looked equally amused, a slight smile tilting his lips. Though still feeling out of sorts, Alexander certainly looked better. His skin was no longer a sickly pale and though he still felt nauseous, he had not vomited since the night before.

From his seat across the room, Ptolemy shook his head. "How it is that you lot have managed to survive this long is an utter mystery to me."

"I am more impressed with the fact that they have bedded something even remotely resembling a female," Cleitus added, smirking in their direction.

Though nothing had been stated outright, it was obvious that Cleitus was acting as a bodyguard to ensure that no further mishap occurred before they left for Mieza. He had arrived around sunset the day before and had not left since. Hephaestion himself rarely strayed more than an arm's length away from Alexander. The rest had arrived roughly an hour before bearing food and wine, intending to distract him and Alexander. It seemed to be working well enough for which Hephaestion was grateful.

"You look tired," Hephaestion murmured, nudging his nose against Alexander's cheek.

Alexander smiled softly, discomfort evident in his strained features. "No more than I imagine you do."

Ignoring the others in the room, Hephaestion instead simply relaxed into the soft bedding and into Alexander. All that he wanted to do was forget the rest of the world. He wanted to rest. Hephaestion felt so utterly exhausted as he wanted nothing more than to be able to relax; to simply be. And he was so very close to it, too. Olympias was too near for him to let his guard down fully. She had nearly killed Alexander and until she was gone from Macedon, Hephaestion knew that he would not feel safe.

"Do you think if we stop talking they will go away?"

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He awoke slowly, his body no longer aching quite so much when he did. He still felt out of sorts, but it was much more bearable now. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he glanced over to where Hephaestion was sleeping soundly next to him.

"He was blinking like a wee babe so I wondered what would happen if I just stopped talking," Ptolemy said quietly from the other side of the room. "Sure enough, a minute later he was out."

Alexander stared at Hephaestion's face, lips pursing when he noticed lines that had not been there before. Hephaestion was just utterly exhausted. He did not sleep much, did not eat much, and, in fact, had gained back only a little of the weight he had lost in the mines. Alexander had not given it as much thought as he had simply keeping Hephaestion alive. He had done what he could to care for his love while they were in Illyria and then on the road back to Pella, relieved with each new dawn that Hephaestion awoke to see. Now that it was obvious that Hephaestion was not in immediate danger of dying on his own, Alexander intended to work on getting him healthy again.

"I worry about him," Alexander said quietly, glancing briefly towards Ptolemy before turning his attention back to Hephaestion. "I worry that he will never be my Hephaestion again."

Ptolemy bobbed his head slightly. "He has changed in the past few months, no mistake, but then so have you. A month ago I would never have thought you capable of killing your mother."

Alexander's hand did not still in petting Hephaestion's unruly hair. "She told me that she had done all of this to Hephaestion because she thinks he is a distraction. She wants me to have a whole litter of sons waiting when my father dies and sees Hephaestion as a hindrance to that. She tried to have him killed because I am not interested in fathering sons right now. And being without Hephaestion would certainly not make me willing to drown my sorrows in a marriage bed I had no desire to make. Had Hephaestion not been taken, my only concern would be getting to Persia with my father. I still want that, but for now it is a secondary concern. Hephaestion is first."

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Watching the princeling and his whore, he could not help but marvel at how easy it would be to kill them both. He had gained access to the room with incredible ease and their so-called bodyguard was snoring away on the chair.

So very easy indeed to clear the way to the throne.


	18. Part XVIII

**Part XVIII**

Hephaestion was not entirely sure what woke him. He knew that he was awake because he could hear Alexander's soft snores and Ptolemy's even louder ones. Not hearing anything else in the room, Hephaestion was already beginning to drift off to sleep again when he heard a breath taken out of sync with the rest of theirs. After that, Hephaestion lay perfectly tense, breathing regularly while he strained to hear further sounds from the intruder. For a long while there was nothing and Hephaestion nearly managed to convince himself that he had merely been hearing things. Then there was the soft padding of footsteps.

Focusing on the sound, Hephaestion rolled off the bed and lunged towards it. He caught the body around the middle and they both crashed to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. Something sharp grazed his arm, but Hephaestion paid it no mind, intent upon subduing the man who had tried to harm Alexander.

"Hephaestion!"

Someone was dragging him off the other man, but Hephaestion continued to lash out. He could not allow the man to try and sneak away. There were muffled shouts all around him, only Hephaestion could not make out the words that were spoken. He was passed off to someone else then and only stopped struggling when he heard Alexander's voice in his ear.

"Calm down, Phae, it is me," Alexander murmured in his ear, arms tight about his chest. "Ptolemy has him. It is over."

In the dim moonlight, Hephaestion could see Ptolemy pinning a second man to the ground. Hephaestion struggled out of Alexander's arms, reaching for the bedside lamp to cast more light in the room. It took two strikes of the flint to get a spark going and Hephaestion immediately applied it to the wick, chasing away the darkness. As soon as he could see, Hephaestion grabbed up the nearest blade.

"Get off me!"

Even as Ptolemy climbed off the no longer struggling body beneath him, Hephaestion did not lower the blade He kept the tip of the knife pointed at the intruder even after the man turned over and reveled his identity.

"Hera's sagging tits, man! What is going on in your head?" Ptolemy spat, climbing to his feet without offering a hand.

"My head? That madman attacked me!"

"What do you expect when you go sneaking about in the dark? Show some sense, Cassander. What are you even doing here?"

Tense as he was, Hephaestion did not start when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The threat was before him and the only one behind him was Alexander. And even though he knew that it was Alexander trying to coax the knife from his grasp, he found it difficult to uncurl his fingers.

"You can relax now, it is only Cassander," Alexander whispered against his temple. "Let go of the knife."

On the next tug, Hephaestion reluctantly released the blade.

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Ptolemy climbed slowly to his feet, shaking his head in disbelief. "Hera's sagging tits, man! What is going on in your head?"

From the floor, Cassander glared up at him. "My head? That madman attacked me!"

"What do you expect when you go sneaking about in the dark?" Ptolemy raked his fingers through his hair, finding it difficult to comprehend what had just happened. "Show some sense, Cassander. What are you even doing here?"

Features still twisted in annoyance, Cassander clambered to his feet. "Nearchus said that you had been here all day so I came to see if you wanted a break. Had I known I would be attacked I would have stayed in the hall drinking. Has Hephaestion taken total leave of his senses?"

"You came creeping in when we were all asleep, Cassander. Had you woken me I would have attacked too," Ptolemy chastised the younger man. He paused then, noticing for the first time the bloodied knife with a smear of blood on it. "You came in armed?"

"No, I pulled it out when I was tackled to the ground," Cassander sneered, leaning over to snatch up the short knife. "I was trying to defend myself."

"Against an unarmed man?"

"I did not know he was unarmed."

"Then for Zeus' sake bring a light next time."

Leaving Cassander to sulk, Ptolemy crossed to where Alexander and Hephaestion stood, the latter's body still rigid with fear. Alexander was slowly trying to draw Hephaestion back towards the bed, but it was as though he were trying to move a stone block for all the response he was getting.

Ptolemy stood directly in front of Hephaestion and placed one hand on his cheek, the other on his shoulder. Hephaestion seemed to be looking without truly seeing so Ptolemy gave him a shake to get his attention. Those wild blue eyes widened momentarily before focusing on him. Ptolemy held Hephaestion's gaze for a minute to ensure he had the other man's attention.

"You did good, Hephaestion," he said slowly, a slight smile tilting his lips upwards. "This time it was Cassander, but it may not have been a friend. Now go sit so that Alexander can see to that cut on your arm."

Alexander made a startled sound and immediately tugged Hephaestion to the bed, willing or no. Knowing that Hephaestion would be in good hands, Ptolemy turned back to Cassander, intent on imparting a few more harsh words, only Cassander was no longer there.

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Hephaestion was tense as a bowstring, his whole body practically vibrating. Whatever his intentions had been, Alexander spared a few foul thoughts for Cassander; cursing him for destroying the brief peace Hephaestion had found.

"Come now, love, sit down," Alexander murmured, placing his hands on Hephaestion's shoulders to gently push him onto the bed. "Let me see your arm."

Hephaestion's eyes flashed confusion for a brief moment before glancing down at his left arm. He seemed surprised by the bleeding cut there. "I barely felt it."

"It is finished now."

To that Hephaestion merely grunted. He seemed to not be fully aware of what was going on around him and that worried Alexander. The attack itself worried him as well. Cassander had drawn a knife when he had to have known that there were only three people in the room, two of them injured. There had been no reason for him to draw the knife because he should not have needed it to stop Hephaestion. At the moment, Hephaestion did not have the strength to pose a serious threat in a physical attack. Cassander should have been able to subdue him without a weapon.

"I do not trust that boy," Ptolemy grumbled slumping down next to Hephaestion on the bed. "There was something odd about the way he was acting. Cassander has never done a selfless thing in his life."

"He did not come here to relieve Ptolemy."

Clarity had returned to Hephaestion's eyes, glancing down at his arm where Alexander was dabbing blood away from the wound. With his free hand, Hephaestion scrubbed a hand over his face.

"He was skulking about and was already halfway to the bed when I got to him."

Sitting back on his heels, Alexander chewed on his bottom lip. While he did not doubt Hephaestion's words, he had a difficult time comprehending them. Cassander was not someone Alexander would have considered reckless. Yet what Hephaestion had seen and the fact that he had had a knife drawn told a very different story.

"I will go speak with the guards," Ptolemy announced, pushing himself up from the bed. "You two stay in here."

"We are not children to be coddled," Hephaestion immediately began to protest. He tried to rise from the bed only to be stopped by Ptolemy's hand on his shoulder.

"This is not coddling. This is me doing what I can to protect you. Please let me do that since I could not before."

Hephaestion seemed to relax at that, some of the fire that consumed him dimming. A moment later he all but sagged, exhaustion finally catching up with him. Alexander was relieved that it was exhaustion and not injury that was slowing Hephaestion down. Slow as the process seemed to be, Hephaestion was recovering.

"By morning Cassander will be whining to his father so we had best sleep now while we can," Alexander said quietly, brushing the back of his fingers against the corner of Hephaestion's jaw. Hephaestion leaned into his touch, his eyes sliding closed. "Whatever Cassander is plotting, you will not be harmed."

Grunting quietly, Hephaestion allowed Alexander to coax him back against the headboard. Crossing to the other side of the bed, Alexander climbed in as well. Hephaestion rolled onto his side and into Alexander's arms as soon as he was close enough.

"Soon we will be in Mieza and this will all just start to become a bad dream."

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Pacing the too-small confines of his room, Cassander raked his fingers through his hair and wondered just what madness had overtaken him. That he should try to kill either Alexander or Hephaestion was utter lunacy. Yet that was exactly what he had done. The knife had been in his hand and he would have plunged it into the nearest body had Hephaestion not tackled him to the ground.

Eyeing the wine glass sitting on the other side of the room, Cassander scowled and vowed to drink his wine more mixed at the next banquet.

It took until mid-morning for the sun to rise high enough to shine into Hephaestion's eyes. Grunting, he turned his face into the pillow, not yet ready to be awake. It felt as though he had closed his eyes only a moment ago. Beside him, Alexander was still snoring quietly, the sun not having woken him. Hephaestion would have been content to sleep the entire day. Never having to move again also seemed a worthwhile fate. Only Alexander made a snuffling sound then, a sure sign that he was waking.

Turning his head to the slide slightly, Hephaestion watched Alexander's eyes flutter slowly open. Those wide gray eyes were out of focus for a moment before they softened noticeably at the edges. Hephaestion quirked the left corner of his lips in a brief smile and wiggled his fingers briefly against Alexander's stomach, the digits twisting about the whispy dark blonde hair below his navel. In retaliation, Alexander's toes slid along his shin before curving around his ankle.

Hephaestion sighed deeply, his eyes closing as he simply enjoyed this interlude of peace. He desperately wanted to believe Ptolemy when he said that they were safe in Alexander's rooms. It was calm for the moment and he did not want that to end. Eyes still shut, Hephaestion leaned in closer so that his face rested alongside Alexander's, nuzzling his nose against the smaller man's cheek. And though he could not see him right then, Hephaestion knew that Alexander was relaxed as well. He could feel it in every line of Alexander's body where their flesh touched. There was no tension in his body, no stiffness from lingering illness.

Alexander leaned into him the rest of the way, lips moving against the bridge of Hephaestion's nose. He could tell that Alexander was saying something the way his lips were moving, but could not hear the words. The new position made it awkward to keep his hand below Alexander's navel so he moved it up around his hip, fingertips ghosting along his side. Alexander shuddered briefly, his own leg wrapping around Hephaestion's, holding them trapped. The only thing that kept the tension out of Hephaestion's body was the fact that he could still move his arms. He was not entirely trapped. Equally calming was the fact that it was Alexander's naked flesh that was pressed against his. Warm and smooth with familiar scars and an even more familiar scent.

Alexander's fingers tickling over the small of his back were enough to relax him completely, easing him back into sleep whether he wanted to or not.

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Emissaries had been sent to Epirus, to Olympias' brother. Philip was offering Alexander of Epirus the hand his daughter Cleopatra in exchange for taking over guardianship of Macedon's mad queen. It would still be another year or so until Cleopatra was of a proper age to marry which would give Philip time to judge whether the Epirot king was keeping up his end of the bargain. It would take time to find out his response, but it would only be a day or so more until Alexander and Hephaestion were safely on their way to Mieza.

"Do you think the Epirot will keep his word?" Parmenion asked while he, Philip, Amyntor and Antipater dined privately in Philip's rooms. "She is his sister, after all."

Philip drank deeply from his cup, considering the question. "There is no love lost between them. Olympias was headstrong and domineering long before our son was born. I would not be surprised if he took a perverse pleasure in locking her away."

"When she goes, I would be among her escort," Amyntor announced immediately. "I want to be sure that she is locked away and can no longer pose a threat to my son."

"She will never again set foot in Macedon," Philip ground out, holding Amyntor's gaze for a long minute. "Both our boys will be safe from her madness."

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Halfway through their second day lounging about in bed, Alexander was more than ready to be about. The only thing that stopped him was that when he did try to get out of bed he instantly felt light-headed and had to sit again. Fear had given him the strength to stay on his feet the night before, but now that they were all safe, that rush had left him. Even so, he felt stronger than he had the day before and the next day they would be bound for Mieza, both his father and the physician had confirmed it. Alexander could not wait to be away from Pella. Already they had lingered too long and though his mother was still confined to quarters on the opposite side of the palace, Alexander knew that Hephaestion was not entirely safe. Not as long as she remained in Macedon. Mieza, though, was much safer than Pella.

As the sun began to set on their final day in Pella, Alexander was feeling more like himself and ordered a bath prepared for him and Hephaestion. He was desperate to wash the stench of sickness off himself and knew that although he would never admit to it, Hephaestion enjoyed a generous soak in heated water.

Sure enough, as he had expected, the instant Hephaestion sunk into the water he released a long sigh, his head lolling back and his eyes fluttering closed. Lowering himself in opposite his love, Alexander draped his legs over Hephaestion's, settling himself in comfortably between Hephaestion's feet. The heated water, scented with Egyptian oils, was incredibly relaxing and Alexander soon copied Hephaestion's slumped pose.

He was so relaxed that he nearly jumped when he felt Hephaestion's toes brush against his hip. Instead, Alexander kept his eyes closed, a smile tugging at his lips while he moved his own toes against Hephaestion's upper thighs. When he felt Hephaestion shift his hips about, Alexander cracked on eye open, his smile becoming full-fledged when he saw Hephaestion's soft smile. Alexander reached one hand into the water and curled his fingers around Hephaestion's calf, squeezing lightly before beginning to massage it. Whatever tension was left in Hephaestion's body instantly began to melt away.

When Hephaestion curled his feet around Alexander's back and began to draw their bodies together, Alexander allowed him to guide the motion of their bodies. Both of Hephaestion's arms disappeared into the water and he slowly began to nudge himself forward. Hephaestion sucked his lips inwards as he continued to move forward, his knees drawn up below Alexander's armpits when he finally stopped. There was a strange look in his eyes that Alexander could not entirely interpret so he stayed still as Hephaestion's right arm came out of the water to cup the side of his neck. Hephaestion's fingers were at the base of his skull then and Alexander could not stop his smile growing when Hephaestion began to tip their heads together, their lips meeting softly.

There was a slight tenseness in Hephaestion's limbs, Alexander himself remaining pliant, allowing his beloved to dictate their movements. Only when he felt Hephaestion's left hand on his hip did Alexander allow himself to wrap his arms around his love's shoulders, fingers playing in the few longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"Love you," Hephaestion whispered against his lips when he drew back for a breath.

"Until the world itself is dust," was Alexander's heartfelt response.


	19. Part XIX

**Part XIX**

Strange as it had felt to be back in Pella after nearly two months' time, Hephaestion felt no such oddness returning to Mieza after so many years away. It was a peaceful place even without Aristotle there to prattle on for hours on end about some theory or another. He, Alexander, and the others had grown to manhood on those remote hills and to return again was almost a relief. Moreso when he considered the fact that he should have been on his way to Athens then. It still amazed him that his father had relented and allowed him to return to Pella. And now to Mieza where they had no guard beyond the sentries watching the paths that led up to the sanctuary of the Nymphs.

"It almost feels as though we have come home again," Alexander murmured as they approached the stables, leading Bucephalas on his line.

"The only thing missing is Aristotle's endless ramblings," Leonnatus spoke up.

Nearchus snorted in amusement. "How would you know? Half the time you were either asleep or had wandered off."

"You should know considering it was often your idea to wander off."

Hephaestion could not contain a grin as Harpalus, often the true instigator of their delinquency, simply went about caring for his mount. And even though Hephaestion could feel tiredness creeping into his body, he began to brush Xanthus down, using a stiff curry comb on his sweaty flanks. The twitching of the gelding's ears was proof enough of his appreciation.

"I could take care of him if you wanted to go rest," Alexander offered as he draped Bucephalas saddle cloth over the divider that separated their stalls.

Arching an eyebrow of Xanthus' broad back, Hephaestion paused in his work momentarily. "You are no doubt as tired as I am so I will hardly take advantage of that. Besides, you are meant to rest here also, not just me."

"It is not taking advantage if I offer."

"But it is if I accept," Hephaestion countered. "Now go care for your brute before he becomes impatient and stomps on your foot."

Though there was still a part of Hephaestion that was desperate to accept the offer, he would rather be slightly more tired than continue to be coddled. He was capable of caring for himself and did not need others—not even Alexander –doing what he could easily do himself. The fact that he would be tired afterwards was hardly a valid reason to have others see to his chores because there would certainly be time sin the future when such things would not matter. Hephaestion had every intention of being at Alexander's side when the king finally set out for Persia and despite what some of the others in the Vanguard thought, the Persians would not simply bow down before Philip's might. Both the battles at the travel there would be difficult so there was no harm in readying himself for hardships.

For the moment, though, Hephaestion contented himself with the fact that he was currently away from so many prying eyes. With luck, by the time they returned to Pella in a month's time there would be something new to gossip about. His hair would have grown back sufficiently by then so as to longer be quite so noticeable. He could simply pretend that none of it had ever happened. The scars on his body would never truly fade, but others could be lessened.

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Tired as he was, Alexander found it impossible to close his eyes. For the first time in so very long Hephaestion seemed utterly relaxed as he slept. There was no hidden tension that he could detect and the nervous grunts that had punctuated his sleep were once again becoming the soft sighs that Alexander had come to secretly adore during their years together. Even before they had begun to share a bed, Alexander had become fascinated with watching Hephaestion sleep.

It was only an extreme force of will that kept Alexander from touching Hephaestion, especially when he was finally sleeping so peacefully. Through the open window of the room, the moonlight was shining on Hephaestion's bare arms and back, painting his skin silver. The healing scars on his back which were thick and pink in the daylight stood out even more at night. They would mark Hephaestion for the rest of his life.

As a child, Alexander had always thought his father's scars made him more frightening; none more than the arrow that had blinded his right eye. Alexander was hard-pressed to find anything frightening about Hephaestion's. To Alexander, those scars only added to his beauty. He was like Ares, battle-scarred and dangerous. Yet there was a beauty to Ares that could not be diminished regardless of his ferocity. Aphrodite herself had loved the war god.

Hephaestion's fingers twitched suddenly very close to Alexander's own. The second time they curled inwards, gripping the sheet below, Alexander reached over and laid his hand atop his love's. The tension that he could feel in the limb slowly began to bleed away, the phantoms haunting Hephaestion's dreams fading momentarily into the background.

More surprising was that as Alexander slid his fingertips along Hephaestion's arm, up to his elbow, a brief smile appeared on the other man's face. It lasted for only a fraction of a second, but Alexander was overjoyed to see it. If Hephaestion could smile in his sleep it meant that his dreams were not so terrible. Content that Hephaestion's rest would likely be peaceful, Alexander allowed his own lids to finally droop shut.

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The water felt brilliant as it flowed over him. Not quite cold enough to be icy, but chilled enough to awaken all of his senses. Alexander was seated on a rocky overhang, legs dangling into the water, occasionally splashing water at Hephaestion who swam nearby. The two of them had managed to evade their erstwhile bodyguards and go alone to the river. Over the past few days the others had been good at leaving them to their own devices which Hephaestion was grateful for. As much as he enjoyed their company, more often he would have rather been alone with Alexander.

"You will turn into a block of ice if you stay in there much longer," Alexander chuckled, kicking water at him once again.

Hephaestion had backed up far enough so that only a few drops landed on him. "It is refreshing. Almost as though I am being cleansed all the way through. As someone who is so fond of bathing, you would enjoy this."

To that Alexander kicked more water at him. "And in case you have failed to notice, those baths you speak of have tended to be warm."

"I forgot that you are a pampered prince," Hephaestion murmured, smiling fondly at his love. "Whatever will you do when your father heads off to Persia and you cannot get a hot bath?"

"I am certain that I will find some way to warm myself."

Knowing that Alexander was referring to him, Hephaestion released a deep breath. Much as he longed to find such solace with Alexander once again, he could not so easily wash away the effects of his time spent in Illyria. Hephaestion had been taken by more men than he could recall and could even now feel their hands upon him.

Feeling a shudder about to overtake him and not wanting Alexander to see it, Hephaestion quickly submerged himself in the water. The feel of hands upon him increased then, fingers probing and grabbing at his skin. They moved over his skin, alternating between featherlight touches and a bruising clamp of fingers. And even though some part of his brain reminded him that he was underwater, Hephaestion opened his mouth and began to scream. Air bubbles exploded around his face as he struggled against the hands holding tightly to his upper arms.

Hephaestion was momentarily caught off guard when his foot made contact with a solid object and his shock lasted long enough for him to be hauled to the surface. Sputtering and gasping, he held his body rigid, blinking rapidly to clear his vision of water and see the other person with him.

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When Hephaestion had first ducked under the water, Alexander had not given it much though. That he had not immediately come back up caused a bit of concern. It was not until the mass of bubbles had broken the surface that Alexander had jumped into the water. He swam frantically to where Hephaestion was and grabbed onto his upper arms, struggling to pull the squirming man above the water. Hephaestion was frenzied as he fought against him, twisting about like a hooked fish.

And though he wanted nothing more than to clasp his love to him, Alexander released Hephaestion once they cleared the surface. Staying only an arm's length away from him at all times, Alexander watched helplessly as Hephaestion spat out the water he had swallowed. Even more difficult was watching him struggle to reorient himself.

"Phae?" Alexander said quietly, skimming his fingers over the surface of the water near to where Hephaestion stood. "Are you all right?"

Hephaestion inhaled sharply, shaking himself suddenly. He blinked slowly, recognition returning to his eyes after a few moments. A few minutes longer before he was able to look Alexander in the eye. As always, despite Hephaestion's best efforts, Alexander could see the emotions his beloved was trying so hard to hide.

"I do not think I will make a very good bed fellow any longer," Hephaestion murmured, darting his eyes away.

Reaching a hand up, Alexander let his palm rest on Hephaestion's cheek. "That you are alive and well is a blessing to me and so long as I can hold you in my arms I am content. Simply to have my hand upon your cheek and feeling your breath against my wrist is a wonder to me. It is not your body I desire, Hephaestion, it is you."

The struggle was clearly visible in Hephaestion's face and desperate as he was to remove that uncertainly from his features, Alexander knew that he cold not. It was ultimately Hephaestion alone who would decide when to release his demons.

Alexander started to draw away, but immediately held fast when Hephaestion's hands shot out of the water and latched onto his forearm. Hephaestion did not say a word, but his eyes slid shut and for a moment he seemed at peace.

"I can still remember," Hephaestion said at last, eyes still closed, "waking in that cart with my arms bound above my head. I felt sick from the blow to the back of my head and did not dare open my eyes… but I could still hear them. There was no way I could shut out the voices. Telling me things they planned to do to me once the chains were gone...."

Though what he heard alternately sickened him and filled him with rage, Alexander did not try to stop the words. Hephaestion needed to erase those memories from his soul. Alexander would have scoured them away weeks ago if it had been in his power. All that he could do was listen while Hephaestion wept and raged, offering a supportive shoulder to lean against and guiding them out of the water when he noticed Hephaestion's lips turning blue. On the bank of the river, Alexander wrapped them both up in his cloak, holding Hephaestion close to him as they sat huddled against a sun-warmed rock.

More than a month's worth of atrocities poured from Hephaestion and Alexander stored up each one, committing it to memory so that he could never again doubt Hephaestion's strength or his love. So that he would never again fall victim to his mother's ploys and intrigues. All of those horrors had been exacted upon Hephaestion because of his mother. All of his imaginings were nothing compared to what Hephaestion was revealing, most of which he could not even fathom one being doing to another.

It was exhaustion that finally silenced Hephaestion. He rested against Alexander's chest, not speaking, but not asleep. Dazed. Alexander felt equally drained, though he had done nothing but listen to Hephaestion speak. There was likely still more that Hephaestion had not spoken of, but it was a start. Hephaestion was finally beginning to unload his burdens, no longer locking them within himself.

Eventually, Hephaestion's eyes began to drift shut, sleep finally overtaking him. Drained as he was, though, Alexander could find no rest. Much as he tried to prevent it, his mind was painting pictures with the words that had recently tumbled from Hephaestion's lips. The things that he saw were images that would haunt his nightmares for years to come. Nightmares that he knew would still be mere shadows of the ones Hephaestion would suffer.

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Every time that Hephaestion would begin to feel himself wake, there would be something to ease him back into slumber. While normally he would fight against whatever wanted him to stay asleep, that time he could not muster the effort it would take. The touches were familiar and gentle so Hephaestion let himself be kept asleep. Alexander was with him so he would be safe.

_Hephaestion stood next to Alexander at the prow of the ship, watching as he hefted a spear about in his right hand, preparing to throw it. When he finally released the weapon, it sailed true, flying over the waves to embed itself in the wet sand just past the water's edge. The cornel-wood shaft vibrated with the force of the throw for a few moments before stilling._

_With a mighty roar worthy of any Homeric hero, Alexander launched himself over the rail and into the water. No one followed, all of them watching Alexander's progress towards the spear. Only when both feet were out of the water did Alexander reach for the spear, grasping it in his right hand and holding it above his head._

"_Greece will win back all her lands in Asia by spear! We will defeat the Persians!" Alexander shouted, echoed a moment later by the cries of the army. Alexander hoisted the spear high a second time, screaming a battle paean that had all of the men rushing from the boats, Hephaestion among them._

_While most men were more eager to find a patch of land to claim as their own for the night's festivities, Hephaestion made straight for Alexander. For a brief moment he stood in wonder of his own Achilles before he was enveloped in a crushing hug._

"_We have made it, Hephaestion. My Patroclus. We are finally here."_

Hephaestion woke slowly, warmed all the way through. He did not open his eyes immediately, but instead enjoyed the heat of the fire that was warming him. He could sense Alexander nearby, a fact that kept him relaxed. Where the others were it did not matter so long as Alexander stayed with him.

Feeling himself beginning to drowse again and not wanting to, Hephaestion blinked his eyes open. He kept the lids slitted open at first, getting used to the light while scanning for Alexander. He saw Alexander's bare right foot before he saw the rest of him. Alexander was close enough so that he only needed to stretch his right arm out only a bit to rest his palm over the foot.

"How are you feeling?" Alexander whispered as he slid his hand through Hephaestion's hair. "You have been asleep for several hours."

Grunting, Hephaestion squeezed Alexander's foot briefly before heaving himself into a seated position. "You should have woken me."

"I thought it best to let you sleep. In any case I like being out here. Far more peaceful than dealing with the others."

Hephaestion agreed wholeheartedly, a smile his only response.

When he had sat up, the cloak that was covering him fell away, baring his naked torso to the chill night breeze. Hephaestion glanced about for his chiton only to have it passed to him by Alexander.

"I did not wish to wake you by trying to dress you," Alexander said by way of explanation.

It seemed strange to him that Alexander should need to explain such things. They both knew each other's bodies as intimately s they knew their own. Hephaestion could name the cause of nearly every scar on Alexander's body and had no doubt that his love was capable of the same with the exception of his newer injuries.

"We should return to the lodgings before the others begin to worry," Hephaestion said as he fumbled about with his chiton.

"They have already been looking," Alexander informed him, his voice slightly muffled as Hephaestion slipped his chiton over his head. "Ptolemy found us and he and Leonnatus brought down food and bedrolls. We need not return before we are ready."

Hephaestion was glad to hear it because he was not quite ready to be among the others yet. Though he was awake, he felt quite out of sorts. Telling Alexander of some of the things that had been done to him at the mines had not been his intention. He would have rather kept them from his love indefinitely. Hephaestion could not even recall what had first drawn the words out of his mouth. The aftermath of the telling, however, had left him feeling incredibly numb. And there was still so much more left to be told. Things that Hephaestion was not sure he would ever be able to speak of, not even to Alexander.

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While not offering up any information, Hephaestion would speak when Alexander said something to him directly. Even then, though, Hephaestion would not use more words than was necessary. Alexander felt uncertain, unsure of whether he should bring up Hephaestion's earlier revelations or just leave them unmentioned. In the past he would base such things on Hephaestion himself, but for the moment he was having a difficult time reading the other man. That fact worried Alexander for entirely different reasons.

"The rabbits are finished," Alexander announced, turning the spit a final time. "Pas me the knife there."

Between the two of them they got the rabbits off the spit and stripped, setting it out on a clean, flat rock. Alexander kept the meat in one communal pile, but kept track of what Hephaestion ate. Instead of regaining his appetite as he began to heal, Hephaestion continued to eat very little. Most days he would only pick at the food presented to him, eating only enough to allow his body to continue functioning. Being as unobtrusive as possible, Alexander continued sliding more meat towards Hephaestion when he noticed his side of the pile growing small. He also kept talking so as to distract him from the fact that he was still eating; rambling on about Xenophon and Homer in hopes of holding his attention. Only when Hephaestion began to yawn excessively did Alexander slow his speech, allowing his love to stretch out on his bedroll. Hephaestion had eaten a good portion of the rabbits so he was content.

"I did not think of you during," Hephaestion said quietly after Alexander already thought him asleep. "Afterwards you were all that I could see, but while it was happening I would force my mind away so that I would not confuse things later."

Rising from his own bedroll, Alexander went to Hephaestion's. He did not say a word as he settled himself behind Hephaestion, drawing the taller man's unresisting body back against his chest. If anything, Hephaestion seemed to settle against him, his body relaxing so that chest and back fit together as they always had. Having been granted permission at an earlier time, Alexander slowly slid his hand over Hephaestion's side to rest against his chest. After a moment, Hephaestion's hand enveloped his and guided it up higher so that it rested close to his chest. Hephaestion did not realize Alexander's hand rested close to his chest. Hephaestion did not release Alexander's hand.

"I knew that if I could stand it just a little bit more you would be there." Hephaestion squeezed Alexander's hand lightly as he spoke. "I had to stay alive because I knew that you would come for me and I could not let you find me dead... or not at all. No matter what they tried to convince me, I knew that you would not abandon me. Achilles always came for Patroclus."

"Just as I will always come for you," Alexander pledged, forcing himself not to ask who "they" were. Hephaestion would tell the story at his own pace and in his own words. "I will never leave you behind."

Hephaestion squeezed his hand again, threading their fingers together. "The only thing I was ever unsure of was whether I would still be alive when you finally reached the mines. There were always so many of them...."

"Yet even then you killed one of them while others would have been too weak to even attempt fighting back."

"I do not remember doing it," Hephaestion said after several long moments of silence. "Only the end, when he was lying bleeding on my bunk and I had the knife in my hand. It was nothing more than a bit of rock I'd sharpened along the edges. After I killed him, the foreman destroyed it. Smashed it under his foot. That night there were five.... How can you stand to touch me knowing how many have used me?"

Alexander stared at the back of Hephaestion's head, confused. "You speak as though you were a willing harlot and not someone forced against his will."

In his arms Hephaestion shuddered briefly. "Is there really a difference if I knew the way to stop them? All that I had to do was renounce my love for you and swear an oath to never again set foot in Macedon or ever again seek you out. I would have injured no one, but to do any of that would have been the same as cutting out my own heart."

"How would they have known if you broke faith? A vow given under duress can hardly be expected to be upheld," Alexander rationalized, drumming his fingers lightly over Hephaestion's chest.

"I would have been sent to Caria in Asia Minor to serve with a band of Illyrian mercenaries there."

Hephaestion's words were barely spoken above a whisper, but Alexander heard them as though they had been shouted. If such things had come to pass then it was entirely possible that within little more than a year he and Hephaestion would have been fighting on opposite sides of a war that the Greeks had no intention of losing. Alexander could only tremble as he thought of what would have happened when the Greek army reached Caria. How it would have been to stumble across Hephaestion's corpse among the enemy dead.

"I had a chance at freedom, I was simply too stubborn to take it."

None of the responses that came immediately to Alexander's mind seemed appropriate. He could hardly thank Hephaestion for choosing a course that would not make them enemies considering all that Hephaestion had suffered as a result.

"It is not stubborn to refuse to go against your own nature," Alexander said at last, taking care to choose his words. "More than anything it shows your strength."

"I want nothing more than to believe you," Hephaestion sighed tiredly.

Alexander kissed the back of his neck. "Then do. It is what I believe."


	20. Part XX

**Part XX**

Given how long it had been since he had last seen it, Ptolemy was momentarily caught off guard to see the wide, content smile on Hephaestion's face. For the first time since his ordeal had begun, Hephaestion looked genuinely content and, as a result, so did Alexander. Whatever had passed between them that night by the spring, Ptolemy was exceedingly glad for it because, for the first time, he was beginning to believe that Hephaestion would recover himself.

"We were beginning to think that you had gone off to frolic with some woods nymphs and failed to invite us," Seleucus greeted the returning pair, grinning as he tossed an apple to Alexander.

"Were we supposed to invite you?" Alexander called back before taking a large bite from the apple.

"It would have been appreciated, yes."

Hephaestion remained silent, but his amusement was fairly obvious even if the expression did not wholly reach his eyes. In truth, Hephaestion had never been the one to laugh the longest or the loudest, his smile often far more telling. Hephaestion's features could be extremely informative so to see the relaxation in the lines of his face was a great relief. Perhaps he was finally doing what Ptolemy had always hoped he would and was speaking of his ordeal to Alexander. Some time had passed, his injuries were healing and the memory of what had been done to him would be the only true thing left to be purged from Hephaestion.

Even though Hephaestion seemed more at ease around them here then he had in either Illyria or Pella, his general reserve was not lost on Ptolemy. Of them all, Hephaestion had always been the calm one, more level-headed and quiet than the rest of t heir group. He was hardly dull, his quiet intensity fitting well with Alexander's more obvious temper. Alexander would let a person know when he considered them his enemy. Hephaestion, on the other hand, would lure that same person in, gain their trust and then strike when it was least expected. The only time Ptolemy could recall seeing Hephaestion's temper outright was when it had been Alexander who was slighted or placed in danger. For Hephaestion, Alexander always came first and Ptolemy suspected that was why Hephaestion was still alive. He would not have left Alexander at the mercy of his mad mother.

It had cost him, though. Hephaestion looked far older than his nineteen years, the weeks of captivity having changed him greatly. Even in the way he held himself while in a group. Since they had arrived, Ptolemy had noticed that Hephaestion never kept his back to anyone and when they were indoors there would always be a clear line between him and the door. Ptolemy preferred not to think of what the nights held for him.

Hephaestion had feigned sleep, knowing that Alexander would not rest until he did. Not wanting his beloved to suffer for his own troubled thoughts, Hephaestion had allowed his body to relax and his breathing to even out. A short while later Alexander had done the same. Hephaestion waited a half hour more before carefully sliding out of the bed, being as silent as he was able. Alexander stirred only once, but after a moment drifted back under.

For the past hour Hephaestion had stood at the window, occasionally shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the silvery landscape below. There was no particular thought that had chased him from bed, just an inability to quiet his mind. Not wanting his restlessness to disturb Alexander he had gone to the window, hoping that the peaceful landscape would help soothe his mind. So far it had all proved to be in vain. All it did was make his legs ache standing still so long.

Glancing over his shoulder at a peacefully sleeping Alexander, Hephaestion sighed deeply, wishing that he could sleep so carelessly. It had been a long time since his sleep had been so unaffected and though he was grateful that Alexander's sleep was so restful, he was also envious and longed to share in that same sleep.

The chill from the window was beginning to make him uncomfortable so Hephaestion moved to the wall opposite the window where his cloak hung. Slipping it on over his bare shoulders, Hephaestion drew the warm cloth about him and silently exited the room.

Barefoot and naked beneath the cloak, it had not been Hephaestion's intention to leave the room. He only wanted to empty his mind of thoughts so that he could sleep.

Even the servants were abed in the early hours of the morning, the place utterly silent as Hephaestion wandered the grounds, coming at last to the rooms that had been Aristotle's. Hephaestion had fond memories of spending many late hours in those rooms talking with the philosopher or simply listening as the older man talked. Alexander had been with them many nights, but quite often it had been only him and Aristotle. Hephaestion had been fascinated by all of the things Aristotle had to tell him, the older man keen to have an enthusiastic audience no matter the hour.

"_When he is king, Alexander will need to have about him men that he knows he can trust implicitly," Aristotle said to him one wet spring night. "I have no doubt that you will be chief among those men. Already Alexander looks to you before any other."_

"_We tell each other everything," Hephaestion volunteered. "He knows all of my secrets."_

"_As I am sure that you know all of his," Aristotle continued fondly. "A true friend, though, will never use those secrets for profit. He will instead guard them as securely as his own. That is the kind of solace Alexander will find in you. You will be the guardian of the man. Not necessarily his body—though I am sure you will do your best on that account—but to ensure that Alexander remains ever Alexander. That kingship does not turn him against his own nature."_

He had been fifteen when Aristotle said those words to him, he and Alexander still in the beginnings of their love. Yet Aristotle had seen hints of, at that point, what Hephaestion had only dared to dream. And, in truth, Aristotle's words had partly terrified him. The burden that he had spoken of seemed colossal, the philosopher refusing to go into detail on just how Hephaestion was meant to keep Alexander from losing himself. At the time he had thought Aristotle purposely evasive, but time had allowed Hephaestion to see the truth of it. There was no one thing he needed to do.

"_You are Hephaestion,"_ was what Aristotle had said to him in all seriousness when their time at Mieza was at an end. _"Men will belittle the simplicity of it because they do not understand. You are loved by Alexander because you are Hephaestion and for no other reason. Just as he is loved by you because he is Alexander. There is so much of the two of you that it twisted together that not even the best sailor could untangle all of the knots properly. So leave the knots tied together and simply be. You will be the better for it."_

A year or so of disuse had left Aristotle's rooms looking utterly vacant. The warmth that he had once felt while sitting huddled with some new scroll from Athens lost. The moonlight was his only guide as Hephaestion had not thought to bring a lamp with him. The moonlight, though, was enough to guide him and Hephaestion sat down on the slightly musty bed. He did not have it in him to do more, his body's exhaustion winning out over his mind's ramblings. So though it had not been his intention, Hephaestion wrapped his cloak more securely about himself and stretched out on the bed.

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Alexander awoke with the knowledge that Hephaestion was not with him. Even before he was fully aware of his own body he knew that Hephaestion was missing, the information simply existing in his mind before he turned his head and saw that his love was no longer sleeping beside him. Sleeping in the same bed was meant to have prevented such things. He was to have felt it if Hephaestion decided to leave the bed. Swiveling his head about in hopes of seeing Hephaestion at the window was equally in vain.

Alexander swallowed the immediate surge of panic that filled him, reminding himself that Hephaestion was stronger now and able to protect himself. So while he was able to keep the panic at bay, Alexander knew that he would not be able to entirely ease his mind until he saw Hephaestion with his own eyes.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the distant hilltops, giving Alexander enough light to dress by. It was also enough light for him see that the chiton Hephaestion had been wearing the day before was still draped over the chest where he had left it. It was another moment before he realized that Hephaestion's cloak, if not his boots, were also absent so he was not entirely naked.

The air was still quite cool as Alexander wandered about the corridors in the dormitory. He could hear no one else about, but that was expected as they had all been up late in the dining hall drinking and talking. There were no women present except for the elderly cook and her daughter's none of which Alexander suspected would be pursued by his friends. So to compensate for the lack of pleasurable company, the others had all drunk a great deal to help keep themselves warm in their beds.

Once it was light enough to see, Alexander caught sight of his own breath hanging in the air. Used to such chill temperatures himself as a result of his time in Leonidas' care, Alexander could not help but worry for Hephaestion who was possibly wearing nothing more than his cloak. He hoped his love had not wandered too far during the night. That Hephaestion had left at all worried him. Alexander had hoped Hephaestion would wake him if his sleep became too troubled.

"Have you see Hephaestion in here?" Alexander asked Glaucus, one of the grooms as he crossed towards the stables. Even though half the paddock was still hidden from view, Alexander had no difficulty spotting Xanthus who was grazing near Bucephalas.

"No, my lord, there has been no one," the groom said with a quick shake of his head.

Alexander thanked the man and continued on his way. He did his best to reassure himself that Hephaestion was not in any danger; there were only so many places he could venture while barefoot. It was a feeble rational, but at the moment it was all that Alexander could do to reassure himself that his love was well. Mieza was not so dangerous as Pella, secluded as it was.

Halfway back to the main buildings, Alexander glanced up at the sky that was now more blue than grey. The others would be waking soon. As his gaze traveled downwards, it fell across a familiar window. One that he had spied Hephaestion through many times. All at once Alexander felt his body lighten, his worry subsiding.

As expected, when he silently pushed open the door to Aristotle's rooms a few minutes later, he immediately saw Hephaestion sleeping peacefully on the bed. Shedding his light cloak and boots in the outer room, Alexander moved quietly into the bedchamber, not wanting to disturb Hephaestion. It was still early enough that they could sleep a bit longer.

"Only me," Alexander murmured when he felt Hephaestion stir as he climbed onto the bed. "It is only me."

With only a quiet snuffle Hephaestion slipped back into a deeper sleep. For the time being Alexander pushed all thoughts of what had forced Hephaestion from their quarters out of his mind. Hephaestion was safe and resting peacefully. Alexander held Hephaestion close to him, breathing in that familiar scent as he allowed sleep to pull him under once again.

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Her darling Philip was an utter fool to believe that he could neutralize her by sending her to Epirus. Her brother would never hold any sway over her. Alexandros was weak and had been even as a child. It would not be difficult for her to dominate him. She simply would not be denied. Not even if it meant crushing her son's heart. Her sweet little Achilles would mourn for a time, but in the end would learn that it was better to be without love. It was only ever a hindrance.

"You do not even realize what you nearly did, do you?"

Olympias raised her head, scowling at the man who stood in the open doorway. "And just what is it that I have nearly done?"

"For all of your spies, you truly are blind when it comes to our son," Philip chuckled darkly. "If that boy had died, Alexander would have followed him soon after."

"His Athenian whore? Surely you jest. Amyntor's brat is simply a plaything that Alexander has yet to put away," she said to Philip with the utmost authority. "Before long he will see the sense in what I did and regret all the trouble he has gone through for that boy."

Shaking his head, Philip turned to leave. "You do not know Alexander at all." He looked over his shoulder, holding her gaze. "Whether you will see it or not, Alexander loves Hephaestion. This is not some passing fancy. All that you have done is made an enemy of our son. He will never trust you again."

"Alexander loves me. I am first in his heart."

To that Philip said nothing. He walked away without a word. The old sot would never turn her sweet boy against her. Neither would the little harlot. Alexander would never set another before her. He would remember that as soon as she got him away from the boy.

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It had been Nearchus idea to go hunting, one that all the others wholeheartedly agreed to. A few days hunting would do them all good. Alexander could easily see the tension that still lingered in Hephaestion and while hand to hand combat would likely be the best remedy even Hephaestion admitted that he was not yet fit enough for that. Hunting, though, was something they had all enjoyed while at Mieza in the past. It made for great distraction and allowed them to focus on something other than the reason they were currently at Mieza.

"Are we taking wagers on who gets the first kill?" Ptolemy asked as they crossed the spring into more dense woods.

"We did that last time," Perdiccas was quick to remind him.

Seleucus drew in line with him. "And the time before. Largest kill?"

"That one ended in a brawl," was Leonnatus' contradiction. "That you lost, I believe."

Seleucus glared at the Lyncestian, some of the expression losing its heat as his lips twitched in a smile. "The dog tripped me. All of Nearchus' carrying on got it excited and it got in the way."

"My what?"

As expected, from there things degenerated into a heated argument of traded insults, none of them truly gaining the upper hand at any point. Alexander and Hephaestion stayed out of it, as did Ptolemy for the most part, though the latter did occasionally add his own observations which would inspire a whole other round of bickering.

With all of the ruckus it was a miracle that, at the end of the day, they actually managed a kill. And though the initial kill was Peridiccas' he could not claim the prize, despite his often creative grumblings, because no wager had actually been agreed upon. To compensate Alexander offered him initial choice of the meat, a prize which placated his appetite if not his purse.

"How soon do you think your father means to set out for Asia?" Leonnatus asked, licking the grease from the meat off his fingers. "The army is practically chomping at the bit."

"And only how many months since Chaeronea?"

Alexander furrowed his brows, passing a flagon of watered wine to Hephaestion who sat at his side. "Within the next year or so I believe he intends to send the advance army. He has mentioned wanting to make sure Athens intends to behave herself before turning his back."

"Would it not be simpler to eliminate Demosthenes? The man can jabber away more than any woman I have ever known."

"And make less sense."

"Killing Demosthenes would only validate all of his claims," Ptolemy pointed out. "It would be better to exile him. Preferably somewhere for from Greece."

"Do you think Gaul would have him?"

"You never know, the Celts could become so frustrated with his endless prattling that they relieve him of his head."

They all laughed at Hephaestion's suggestion and then their conversation turning into plotting many different and elaborate deaths for the troublesome orator. The more wine they consumed, the more fantastical the executions became, several of them punishments worthy of the gods.

When at last the wine was all drunk and becoming sober was a distinct possibility, they all crawled in the directions of their bedrolls. The night was cold enough that they slept in huddled groups of two or three in an attempt to share heat. Alexander and Hephaestion wrapped themselves up in both their blankets, their limbs utterly twisted together in a bid to stay warm.

"The gods guard your dreams," Alexander whispered against Hephaestion's cheek, his eyes blinking shut.

Hephaestion yawned deeply. "Yours as well."

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_How can we expect Philip of Macedon to guard our interests when he cannot even keep safe an Athenian within the walls of his own palace? Amyntor son of __Demetrois__, a man that Philip claims as a guest-friend was insulted by all of Macedon when his son was abducted by Illyrian mercenaries on the very eve that his wife died of a sudden malady. Strange coincidence, is it not, that such a respected and influential Athenian general should receive two such drastic blows to his family and his pride in a single instant._

_Just how stable can the Macedonian royal family—if we should even call them royal—be when they cannot even protect those that are dear to them? For not only was the poor Athenian boy the son of a guest-friend, but also the companion and beloved of the prince himself. The little-king, they call him. Prince Alexander, who cruelly slaughtered Thebes' Sacred Band, showed such little regard for his supposedly dear friend that he allowed him to languish a whole month in one of his father's vile mines before retrieving him. Such is Macedonian friendship._

_How, then, can we be expected to trust Philip as a conqueror when he cannot be trusted as a friend? To him we are worth nothing but the power of our navy. Grant him that, Athens, and he will destroy us just as surely as the Persians attempted just over a century ago. For all of his talk about undoing the wrongs committed by Xerxes, I assure you that he means only to outdo him. Athens will lose all of her glory and become nothing but a backwater bit of Macedon unless we stop him now. It would be in our best interest to side with Persia against him. Better an enemy far away than one breathing foul breath down our necks...._

Demosthenes read over the draft for his latest speech yet again, searching for places it could be made stronger. Sooner than he would like the uncouth Macedonian would be setting out with his army as the "avenger of Persian crimes against Greece" or some such nonsense. That a barbarian should be allowed to proclaim himself a Greek in any way was unthinkable. If Athens continued to whimper and fuss at Philip's feet soon even those barbaric northern tribes would begin to consider themselves Greek.

Philip's witch, at least, had the good sense to stay out of Greek affairs. Her own intrigues made her useful. It had taken only a small sum of money to set in motion all of the drama with her brat at the unfortunate Athenian boy. The only troublesome part of the whole affair was that Amyntor's son had lived to lay blame at the witch's feet and Demosthenes had no word but her own that she would not implicate him. Under normal circumstances he would not trust the word of an unpredictable woman, but to meet his ends he had little other choice. Even if she did make his part in the plot known, it would be easy enough to deflect the blame. And to have such a well situated ally would only be beneficial if it became necessary to remove Philip from power. Let the Epirot witch think that Athens meant to promote her son in such an eventuality.

_Should it not be Athens herself, the crowning glory of Greece, to lead the greatest invasion of Asia since the Trojan war? Should such a vast undertaking truly be left up to the sons of goatherds?_

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The journey to Epirus was not particularly easy at that time of year, but Amyntor willingly bore the hardships for when he returned from Dodona his son would finally be safe from Olympias. Amyntor was not fool enough to think that Hephaestion would be utterly safe—such a thing was impossible so long as he remained Alexander's lover—but he would at least no longer be within the witch's grasp.

"She wants to speak with you, general."

Amyntor frowned, not the least bit inclined to hear anything Olympias had to say, but aware that it was expected of him. Until they rode into Dodona, he was her guardian. At Dodona her younger brother Alexandros would take control of her. Amyntor's initial concerns over such a scenario had been quelled by both Philip and Alexandros; Philip pointing out the long standing grudge between brother and sister, Alexandros reconfirming that he owed his crown to Philip. The eventual marriage of Alexandros and Cleopatra only strengthened the bond between the kings of Macedon and Epirus.

"You requested my presence, lady?" Amyntor inquired with forced civility as he drew his horse up alongside Olympias litter.

Olympias smiled beguilingly from behind her linen curtains. "I only meant to inquire if it was time for us to stop for the night. The sun is fading quickly and our location is hardly safe. I would hate for any misfortune to befall us so close to my brother's lands."

"I assure you, madam, we will be safe enough. I have every intention of delivering you safely to Dodona."

The scowl that he received in response twisted her features, making her appear far older than her thirty-something years. It was not difficult to imagine her casting some foul curse on him and Amyntor could not stop the secret grin that lightened his insides. Let her curse him, it would do no good as he did not believe in such things. Hephaestion was safe enough with Alexander, far from her grasp. Much as the idea of a son killing his mother bothered him that Alexander had placed Hephaestion above his own mother comforted him a great deal. His son was loved.

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Yawning loudly, Hephaestion reclined against Alexander's chest. Their month at Mieza was nearly up and soon they would need to return to their lives. Close to three months had passed since he had last run drills with the Vanguard and at times Hephaestion felt utterly useless. The rest of the time he could not believe that almost three months had elapsed. In his mind it was so much longer.

In other ways it was easier to see the passage of time. His hair was becoming longer and he was sleeping more soundly. He was also stronger than he had been when they had first arrived at Mieza. In order to keep themselves fit they had been drilling with their horses. After two weeks Hephaestion had no longer needed to take breaks while the others were still busy working. It had bothered him that he no longer had the stamina to remain on horseback for more than half a day so he pretended not to notice when the cooks gave him a larger portion at meals, no doubt at Alexander's bidding.

The true test had come that afternoon when Ptolemy had suggested a wrestling match. Initially Hephaestion had remained out of such matches, knowing that he did not have the strength to be a significant threat to any opponent, but that afternoon he had felt well enough. It was no real surprise that Alexander was chosen as his opponent, the two of them paired off together the most often over the years. The surprise had been the fact that Hephaestion had been the victor. They had fought often enough that Hephaestion had known that Alexander had not been going easy on him. Alexander had fought with all of his usual tenacity, yet it had still been his face in the sand at the end. Rather than being upset about his loss, Alexander's face had been beaming with pride.

"Do not think that you will always beat me so easily," Alexander groused good-naturedly as they lay drying on the banks of the spring. "I will defeat you one day."

Hephaestion pressed a kiss to the underside of Alexander's jaw, unable to prevent a grin. "If you say so, love."

"I will!" Alexander insisted, his grip about Hephaestion's middle tightening. "You are simply too cocky for your own good."

"Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"

Lightning quick their positions were reversed and Hephaestion found himself on his back with Alexander looming over him. For a brief moment he felt an instinctual flare of panic, but it was immediately driven away by Alexander himself. He could not for one moment considering being scared of the other man.

Alexander must have felt him tense because he immediately began to roll away. Hephaestion lifted his knees, trapping Alexander between his thighs to prevent him moving off.

"You do not frighten me," Hephaestion said with the utmost conviction. "It was only a momentary twinge."

Alexander's lips twisted and he ducked his head down briefly. "I do not ever want to cause you pain or frightening you."

Hephaestion's smile was instant. "Nor could you ever do such a thing. Not even if you tried."

"You cannot be certain of such things," Alexander murmured, his grey eyes looking wide and vulnerable then.

"Of course I can. If it is within your power I know that you will never willingly cause me any hurt. It is simply not in you."

Alexander still did not look convinced so Hephaestion lifted his head to press a kiss to his lips. At first Alexander was unresponsive, holding himself utterly rigid until Hephaestion began to nip lightly on his lower lip.

"I will not fall apart for want of some affection," Hephaestion insisted, the words spoken against that full bottom lip. He drew his head back so that Alexander would be able to see the truth in his eyes. "If you do not trust yourself then trust me to know what I am capable of bearing."

"I trust you in all things," Alexander said quietly, his voice solemn. "But this... after all that you have already suffered...."

Hephaestion allowed his head and shoulders to drop back onto the ground, his hands sliding from behind Alexander's neck to rest upon his own stomach. Doubt once again began to creep up on him and it was difficult for Hephaestion to swallow it back down.

"Do you still see me as something broken?" he asked in a whisper as Alexander began to draw away. "Something that has been damaged beyond repair?"

Settling himself back down, Alexander rolled onto his side, drawing Hephaestion with him so that they lay chest to chest, their legs tangled together. For several long moments he said nothing and Hephaestion would have feared what was to come were it not for the feel of Alexander's fingers twisting about in his hair.

"You have been broken apart, Hephaestion. That is something neither of us can deny," Alexander began slowly, his fingers moving to the still-healing scar just under the hinge of Hephaestion's jaw. "It was not long ago that you were insensible, holding a knife to your own throat. The time that you have spent recovering barely equals the time that you were captive. Physically you have recovered, I do believe that. It is the rest of you that I cannot help but fear for."

"Will there ever be a time you think me fully recovered? Is there even a way for either of us to truly know when such a thing will happen?"

Alexander sighed, the gentle movement of his fingers never faltering. "I do not know the answer to that, which terrifies me most. I know that you are Hephaestion and that I will love you regardless, but beyond that I am lost."

"So you would rather stay cowering in the dark than search out some kind of light?" Hephaestion pressed, touching his forehead to Alexander's. "I am not afraid, so why then are you?"

At first Alexander was utterly silent and Hephaestion was uncertain of what to expect. The kiss that followed eased all of his fears. He could still feel some restraint in Alexander, but there was some passion in there as well. Alexander was tentative, something he had not been since they had initially become intimate. Hephaestion himself was not entirely certain, but swallowed his own unease. He would not fear what was to come. He could not fear something he wanted so desperately.

Prepared as he was, Hephaestion could not prevent himself from tensing briefly as Alexander's hand reached between his thighs. Even knowing what was coming he felt a twinge of unease, but swallowed it down as quickly as he was able, leaning up into the kiss so that Alexander would not think him backing down. More than anything Hephaestion wanted intimacy with Alexander. He wanted to lose himself entirely within his love so that he could wash away everything that had come before.

So he held himself steady, breathing deeply as Alexander slowly began to ease inside his body. But Alexander was taking such care with him that after the first initial uncomfortable stretch, he felt only fullness. He gasped, pressing his forehead to Alexander's as he arched his hips upwards to meet his lover's.

"Gods, Phae," Alexander moaned, his breath panted hotly against Hephaestion's cheek.

Turning his head, Hephaestion tilted his head so that he was able to catch Alexander's lips with his own. His hands he used to cup the back of Alexander's head, his fingers sliding through the short blonde hair. Alexander leaned back into his palm, coaxing Hephaestion up with him with a gentle nip to his top lip.

Their movements were languid, neither of them wanting to hurry things along as they had so often in the past. It was not the completion that they were both searching for, but the act itself. Throughout it all, Hephaestion alternately felt as though he were being patched back together and bursting apart at the seams. His whole body felt alive and Hephaestion never wanted it to end. That it would was inevitable and afterwards he and Alexander lay gasping in a boneless, sweaty heap.

"Much as I would love to lay here with you until the world ends, there is a rather large rock digging into my back," Hephaestion murmured against Alexander's neck a short while later. "That or your sandal. I cannot quite make out the shape of it."

"How utterly romantic," Alexander chuckled quietly, rolling onto his side and drawing Hephaestion with him. He lifted his head and glanced over Hephaestion's shoulder to where they had been lying before. "It was your boot you were lying on."

"Quit looking so smug," Hephaestion chided, grunting slightly as Alexander's softened member slipped from him. "It could very well have been your sandal."

"Not likely. You are the disorderly one of our pairing."

"I am simply not compulsively clean. I am rather surprised that you have lingered this long after our coupling without insisting upon bathing."

"I thought it polite not to mention the mess you have made of us."

"What of the mess you have made of me?"

"If you let me up now, I can promise to give you a very thorough washing."

"You are desperate to get into the water."

"Quit your laughing, you madman!"

Heaving himself up onto his knees, Hephaestion reached a hand down to his love. "Come along, we will wash each other's backs."

The End.


End file.
